My Someone Else's Life
by Tell Her This
Summary: Elliot's niece stays with her, and JD and Elliot try taking their relationship slowly.
1. My Prologue

**AN: This is a repost under a new account. I'm plagiarising from mars2192. I am mars2192.**

**Disclaimer: I don't the characters. I'm just having fun.**

**My Someone Else's Life**

It's always great to walk out of the hospital after a killer of a long shift and see the sun shining and hear the birds singing. It makes you think about why you're here. It's almost life affirming. Of course, when you're beginning to realise the woman you love more than anyone isn't interested in you in that way at all, you always feel kinda 'glass half empty'. You see, a couple of weeks ago I tried to talk to Elliot about our on/off relationship, and she laughed it off. Admittedly, she thought I was joking and, you know, I said I was to save face, but still. It sucks.

I step out of the hospital and take a deep breath, before walking down the ramp adjacent to the wall with the Sacred Heart Hospital sign on it.

There's a bench opposite the entrance of the hospital where I like to sit and ponder over all the crap that's going on in my life. Normally there's nobody on that bench but today there's a young girl sitting there reading a book. She looks kinda familiar, but I'm positive I haven't seen her before. She can't be more than sixteen years old. But why is she sitting on my think-about-my-crappy-life bench? Ach, who cares? I'm gonna sit there anyway. I do so and she doesn't even bat an eyelid.

"Whatcha reading?" I ask casually, trying not to seem nosey.

"Chemistry notes," she answers without even looking up to see who's talking to her. I'm not sure whether she's being rude or just thoroughly engrossed in her revision notes.

"I remember those days, my friend," I say, trying to exert wisdom. Well, it's true. I do remember those days. They sucked.

I get the feeling I'm annoying her because after a couple of minutes of silence she slams her thick book shut and looks round me, with a completely pissed off expression on her face, and says, "What's wrong with you?"

"What?" I ask, completely shocked and confused by her tone and what she means.

"I have been sitting here for an hour and a half," she begins, " and the only people who sit here are looking for a good 'bitch about my sucky life' session while I'm tryna study. So what's your problem?"

I'm not sure whether I should tell a complete stranger about my girl troubles, but then I figure, what could it hurt? If anything, I'll get some stuff off my chest and maybe get the opinion of someone neutral. I sigh and then begin. "There's this girl I love. Have done for the last like, six years. But she sees me just as a friend. I mean, we've tried the whole relationship thing, and talk about a train wreck."

I look round at her, still trying to figure out why she looks so familiar. She seems genuinely interested, if the look on her face, which is a total contrast to what it was when I first started talking to her, is anything to go by. "So it didn't work?"

"Nah," I sigh, "but I don't know if we gave up too early. To be honest, I don't think we tried hard enough. I guess I'm wondering what could've been if we'd really tried to make it work."

"So…," she says, drawing it out like she's trying to think of what to say next, "why can't you try to make it work now?"

What a question to ask! Especially since it's the one I've been asking myself. "It's complicated," I say. Like what isn't complicated in life?

"Why?" she asks.

Dammit, why did she have to ask that? "We're really good friends, and if we got into a relationship it might ruin the friendship."

"Would you be willing to risk that to see if it would work?"

"I would, but I'm not sure she would," I answer.

"Have you tried talking to her about it?"

"Yeah but she thought I was just messing with her."

"Well that sucks," she nods.

"You're damn right about that one," I say solemnly.

"So what's this girl you love more than anything like?"

"She's amazing," I say with so much enthusiasm. "She cares so much about every one. Her friends, her patients, you name it – she cares. She's so neurotic it borders on insane and she can talk about a million miles a minute."

The girl has a puzzled look on her face. "Isn't the expression 'a mile a minute'?"

"It is, but she talks a million times faster."

She laughs. "So, what does she do?"

"She's a doctor," I say and I can't hide the smile on my face.

"Wait…," she says slowly, and the look on her face tells me she's trying to work out a puzzle in her head, "So you're Scooter!"

I'm more than a little confused. "How'd you know that?"

"Well, the first person who sat down here five minutes after I did was Dr Jan Itor."

Who's Dr Jan Itor? Oh… Janitor.

"Yeah, he was talking about you. Yeah, he was talking about how you keep pining over Blonde Doctor, who I now assume is that girl you like."

I clear my throat. "It's JD actually. My name's JD."

"Really?" she asks, raising an eyebrow. "Because the second person who decided to have a bitching session called you girls' names."

"Yes, that would be Dr Cox," I say knowingly. "I'm beginning to think those two guys hate me."

"Well, the way they were talking it did make you seem pretty pathetic," she giggles. "Just have faith," she says a couple of minutes later and I'm not exactly sure what she means. "It'll all work out one day."

"You really think so?"

"Yeah," she says with an encouraging smile. And I almost believe her, which is slightly weird considering I don't even know the kid and probably won't see her again.

"Thanks," I say and I truly mean it.

"No problem," she says with the same smile on her face. "It's what the bitching bench is for, right?"

I laugh. I really needed that talk. What had I been worried about? It had helped. I did feel better. I have a sense of hope. It's probably just a temporary sense, but still, it is a sense of hope and there ain't nobody gonna take that away from me just now.

"So what's a young girl like you doing sitting outside a hospital at 12.30 on a Saturday afternoon?" I ask her, thinking she might want somebody to tell all of her shit to.

"I'm waiting on my aunt," she says happily. "I'm going to be staying with her for a little while. My parents are going out of the country."

"That sounds like it will be fun!"

The girl scratches her head nervously and looks down. "Yeah, she doesn't know about it yet."

"Seriously?" God, her aunt is going to be pissed.

"Well, they didn't tell me until I was being dropped off here, so I don't think they'll have had the courtesy to tell her."

"Your aunt work the hospital?"

She shakes her head. "No, she works in the vets' office across the road."

There's a vets' office across the road?

She hasn't seemed to notice my confused expression. "I'm just kidding! She works in the hospital."

I laugh nervously. "Funny." She's good with the advice but her jokes suck. A yellow cab pulls up in front of us and I stand up. "That's my ride home. Maybe I'll see you around."

She waves slightly. "See ya JD!"

"By the way, what's your name?"

"Alyssa," she smiles. "Alyssa Reid."

Wait a minute… Did she just say… ARGH!!

(In case you hadn't noticed, that was the voice in my head screaming**.**)


	2. My Niece

**Just to clarify, I've changed some of the Scrubs history slightly. Nothing too major; just some things about the characters' families. Just to avoid confusion, in this story, Elliot has four brothers: Barry, Bradley, Billy and Brian. Elliot is the youngest out of them all. **

* * *

Okay, this is _not_ good. You see, _this_ just happened:

_"By the way, what's your name?"_

_"Alyssa," she smiles. "Alyssa Reid."_

The reason that is such a bad thing is because I just spent the last twenty minutes telling the girl that happened to be sitting on the bench about my 'Elliot troubles'. What I didn't count on was that girl being Elliot's niece. I thought Elliot's niece was nine or ten or something like that. Wait a minute… maybe this isn't Elliot's niece. Maybe there's another Dr Reid in the hospital. Let's check.

"What's your aunt's name?" I ask, trying not to let it show that I'm freaking out.

"Elliot," she answers.

Yeah. Of course it is. I'm screwed!

"Really? Elliot Reid? I know her." How well I know your aunt, I'm not telling you.

"No kidding," she says smiling.

I laugh nervously. Thank God I'm getting out of here now. Wait. Where'd my cab go?

"You told it to go," she says.

Is she reading my mind?

"You're talking out loud."

"Oh," I say, totally aware now that I'm talking.

I hear footsteps coming up behind me and the voice soon follows.

"JD, who are you talking to?"

I step aside and look round at Alyssa.

"Hi Aunt Ellie," she says, smiling and waving.

I look back round at Elliot and, sure as sunrise, she looks shocked and her eyes, well, they're wide.

* * *

I am going to fricking kill my brother. He really expects me to look after his daughter on no notice at all? Does he not think I have my own life and my own job? I love my niece to pieces and I am going to look after her for the few weeks she's going to be here, but a little warning would be nice, you know?

Aly's sitting in the passenger seat of my car and she's fidgeting nervously. I don't want her to think that I don't want her here, because I do. She's my only niece and, to be honest, I don't get to see her often enough. But still, that does not give my brother the right to drop her off at the hospital without even telling me and expecting me to look after her for an unspecified amount of time.

"So do you have any rules for your apartment or…?" Aly asks, drawing it out.

I laugh to myself. Where the hell do I start? I may as well start with the crazy crazy stuff. "Okay, rule number one: no talking to me when I'm on the crapper."

"I totally have the same rule at home."

"So you're not going to break it?" I ask. "Because the last time I had Carla staying it's was like she saved everything up until my ass hit the seat."

She has a horrified/sympathetic look on her face and I feel a teeny bit less crazy.

"Wait, who's Carla?"

"Oh that's my best friend. She works at the hospital too."

"Do all your friends work in the hospital?"

"Yeah, pretty much," I answer.

"So how far away from the hospital do you live?"

"Fifteen minutes drive. We're actually just round the corner now."

"Coolio." There's a pause before Aly starts speaking again. "Sorry about this by the way. My dad's a jackass."

"Hey that's not…" I'm about to say that's not a nice thing to say about her father, but it's true. I was also going to try and defend my brother and say he's not that bad, but then I wondered who I was trying to kid. "You're right."

"I mean, who doesn't tell their daughter that they're going out of the country?! Or ask their sister to look after their niece while they're out the country?!"

"Wow, you're really not happy about this?" And I thought I was pissed off.

"No, Aunt Ellie, I'm not happy about it. I've had enough of my parents never telling me anything and barely acknowledging my existence. You know, my mum is never home. She works all day and goes out all night. My dad's usually away with Doctors Without Borders. Oh and did I mention he hates me? God. I spend most of my time with the nanny/ housekeeper, Rosario."

"You're sixteen and you still have a nanny?"

"Yeah! How pathetic is that?"

"That is pretty pathetic."

"I don't think my parents even realise I'm sixteen. They don't pay attention to me."

"That really sucks." I remember when I was growing up. My parents didn't really pay that much attention to me. I was the youngest of five; they were pretty much over with the 'Yay! She took her first step! Yay! You graduated high school! Yay! You got into med school' thing. All four of my brothers had done that before me. I think they were over the whole kid thing anyway. Yeah, I was kinda an accident. My parents didn't care too much for me either. But still, they were never as bad as Aly's parents. It kinda figures that my brother would raise (using the term loosely) his daughter the same way as my parents raised (again, using the term loosely) me. Brian was always the one who was most alike to our parents. He was like exactly half of Mum and half of Dad in personality, but he looks exactly like my dad. But my parents are really similar in personality and parenting techniques and the like that Brian could easily just be one of them. And if what my sister-in-law (a woman who is exactly like my mum; so much so I'm almost convinced there's incest going on there) said is worth going by, Alyssa wasn't exactly a wanted child either. Yes, that's right. Apparently, she was a mistake too. My sister-in-law's a surgeon; she didn't want the whole family thing. Cutting people open was her life. Anyway, she fell pregnant. I'm sure she wanted an abortion, but her Catholic-ness (I don't think that's politically correct) prevented it. And here Alyssa is, bitching to me about how much her parents suck.

"And, this is my street," I mutter as I turn the car into the junction.

"Nice street."

I park the car right outside the apartment block. "I live on the second floor."

"Is your name Luka?" Alyssa asks. I think she's trying to make a joke or a reference or something but I'm not sure.

"What?"

"The Suzanne Vega song? My name is Luka. I live on the second floor," she sings, and, no offence to her, she's almost as bad a singer as me. "Ringing any bells?"

I shake my head. I've probably heard the song at some point. I don't know it though.

I'm slightly confused when Aly lifts her bag out of the car. It's a rucksack, and for someone who is supposed to be staying for a few weeks, it doesn't look like she has enough things with her. "What's in the bag?"

"School textbooks."

"You don't have any clothes or anything with you?"

"Nope, because nobody told me I was staying away from home."

"That could be a problem."

"You don't say," she laughs. At least she's kind of in good spirits.

It doesn't take long to get up to my apartment. It's only two floors to climb. I really hate my apartment door. The lock doesn't work quite as well as I'd like it too. It usually takes a few half-turns of the key before it will open. Today is no exception.

At the wall beside my door, there's a little table that my phone and the answering machine sit on. When I cross the threshold of my apartment I notice that the little light on my machine is flashing, so I push down the button to listen to the messages.

"You have one new message," the little robot voice says. God, I hate that voice. "Hey Elliot. It's Brian." Oh yay. "Thanks for looking after Alyssa. I don't think she'll cause you that much trouble. Thanks again. Bye. Oh by the way, we're going to be gone for six to twelve months." The machine clicks off.

"Frick!"


	3. My Suggestion

"Brian, you better pick up the fricking phone this time!" I yell down my cell. I know shouting louder into Brian's voicemail isn't going to make him answer any quicker, but I shout anyway. Maybe one day I'll fully understand the psychology behind that, but I'm thinking anger as a great deal to do with it. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Alyssa sitting on my sofa. She seems really uncomfortable. I think that she's starting to think she's to blame. I'll need to reassure her she's not. I keep shouting insults and threat, the occasional obscenity slipping in, for easily forty-five minutes, during which time somebody has knocked on my door, but I'm still too wrapped up in yelling at my brother's voicemail to answer. "Brian, I swear to God, I'm going to kill you." I can faintly hear somebody saying my name but I ignore it. "Seriously Brian, I'd be worried." I think the calling of my name is getting louder, but I'm still ignoring it. "You know how freakishly strong I am when I'm mad!"

"Elliot!"

The shouting is so loud I can't ignore it this time. "What?!" I snap as I whip my head around.

Alyssa and Carla are both looking at me with weird looks on their faces, a weird mix of surprise and horror. And this is the point when I realise I'd agreed to go out for a couple of drinks with Carla. Frick.

"Hey Elliot, who's this?" Carla asks, pointing at Aly.

"Carla, meet my niece Alyssa. Alyssa, meet my friend Carla."

They quickly exchange pleasantries before I say, "Carla, can I have a quick word?" I drag her into the kitchen. "I'm freaking out here. Please help me."

"First of all, calm down," she answers in that 'den mother' way that pisses us all off yet we all seem to love so much also.

"Calm down! I'm in the middle of a freaking crisis here! My niece is going to be staying with me for at least six months! Help me out here!"

Initially Carla looks shocked. "Wow, six months. And you didn't know about this?"

I shake my head.

"Damn. Bet you're glad you've got a two bedroom apartment now, huh?"

"Well I would be if the spare room wasn't holding all of my crap!"

"Okay, Elliot, you're going ultrasonic!"

"Sorry."

"Okay, you know what we're going to do," Carla begins. I suddenly feel a little more relieved. Carla always has a plan. "We're going to help you clear out that room and then we'll take it from there."

"Okay, okay."

"Okay," she echoes, as she ushers me out of my kitchen and back into the living room.

* * *

"Wow, you speak Spanish. That's really cool." I think I quite like Elliot's niece. She looks a lot like her aunt, so, to be honest, I was expecting Alyssa to be another little uptight spoiled Connecticut girl.

"Yeah," Alyssa says. "I lived in Mexico for a while my parents were doing… something. I think it was some kind of doctoring thing. Anyway, I learned some of the language down there and kept taking classes when we moved back to the States. It became my way of calling my parents nasty names without them realising."

"Your parents lived in Mexico for four years and they never learned Spanish?" Elliot asks disbelievingly.

"My parents? Are you kidding? They think the rest of the world should be made to speak English and the they think that the American Government is the ruler of the world."

Elliot, Alyssa and I are trying (that being the operative word) to clear up Elliot's spare room. It's a lost cause. Elliot's got that much crap in here that really, we're just moving mess to be mess somewhere else in the room.

"So what do you want to do when you're older?"

"I think I want to be a doctor. I've been looking around a lot of medical schools. They all want some evidence of community involvement or relevant voluntary work. I was looking for stuff back home. That was, of course, before my parents fled the country."

Alyssa then mutters something which I swear is 'sons of bitches' in Spanish. "Why don't you try to get the volunteer work at Sacred Heart. Dr Kelso was just talking about how he could people to do some work cheaply… or freely. He's setting up a volunteer programme."

"Who's Dr Kelso?"

"Chief of Medicine." And world-class bastard.

"You think I'll get a volunteer job there? Aunt Ellie, would you mind me volunteering there?"

"No. What harm will it do?"

"Cool."

"There's actually a volunteer open day on Saturday" I remember. "You should go down to that."

"Thanks Carla. I think I will."

It goes silent as the three of us concentrate on tidying the room. That is, however, until Alyssa drops a lamp on her toes.

"¡Joda!" she shouts. She then gasps and puts both of her hands over her mouth when she realises someone actually understands her. "Spanish also became a way for me to curse without my parents realising it," she says quietly.

"Alyssa Reid, you badass!" I say.

"What? What did that mean?" Elliot asks. I think she's feeling a bit left out.

"It's the world you replace by frick."

She smiles. "Huh. What's 'frick' in Spanish?"

"Frick," Alyssa and I answer at the same time.

"God, my toes really hurt!"

"That's what you get for wearing open toed sandals," Elliot says, looking at Alyssa's shoes.

"Do you have any ice?"

"I'll check the freezer," Elliot says, walking out of the room.

"Check the oven too," Alyssa shouts.

"Okay!"

Alyssa looks at me incredulously. "Did she really just say okay to checking the oven?"

"You'll get used to all the weird goings on around here."

* * *

_Saturday Afternoon_…

"I got the job, I got the job!" Alyssa walks into my apartment singing, and as I said a couple of days ago, she's as bad a singer as me. "Aunt Elliot, I got the job!"

"You got one of the volunteering spots!" I say. "When do you start?"

"Next Friday afternoon."

--


	4. My First Day

Holy cow.

It's my first day volunteering at Sacred Heart Hospital.

Holy cow.

You have _no_ idea how nervous I am right now.

There's supposed to be an orientation meeting with the Chief of Medicine, but he's kinda… not here. Nobody knows where he is. Everybody seems absolutely terrified of this guy, and if the stories I've heard are true, we're all quite right to be scared of him. Eek.

It's weird being a volunteer. I have my own nametag. It has my picture on it and it says 'Volunteer' in big letters along the bottom. And it has my name on it. Obviously. And I'm wearing a pair of black scrubs. Apparently volunteers have to wear scrubs too, which kinda surprises me. It seems that in this hospital, the colour of your scrubs varies according to what job you do here. The internal medicine doctors wear blue scrubs. The surgeons wear green scrubs. The nurses wear any other colour of scrubs. The volunteers wear black scrubs. It's a bit morbid, don't you think? Black reminds me of death and funerals and all that jazz (God, I love _Chicago_). What patient in here would like to be reminded of death? Is it just me that thinks that?

Okay, the door to this weird room has _just_ opened. And Bob Kelso is walking in. He's going to stand at the podium. Behind him is some guy in a suit, who has, like, no hair. He's completely bald apart from one strip of hair that goes from one ear to the other. He's sweating. Profusely.

"Good afternoon volunteers," Dr Kelso begins, smile on his face, "and welcome to Sacred Heart Hospital."

I'm waiting for him to start being as evil as everyone (everyone being my aunt, that weird guy JD, Carla and her husband Turk) says he is.

"Here at Sacred Heart we are a family, and families support each other. You're all going to love volunteering here. Now just remember that I am your safety net."

Kelso doesn't seem so bad. I wonder why everyone hates him so much… Mind you, the speech does seem rather scripted. And why would we need a safety net…?

"That's all I wanted to say. Now, as part of the volunteer programme, you're all assigned to different attendings, who will tell you want to do each day."

Now that I knew. Apparently the attending I've been assigned to is Doctor Cox. My aunt's friend JD LOVES this guys. Calls him his 'mentor', which is weird when JD is also an attending. Hmm. I get the impression that JD is a little prone to hero worship… and also seems a little gay if his weird friendship with Carla's husband Turk is anything to go by. I think they used the words 'guy love' to describe it. I don't have a problem with gay people, by the way. My uncle Barry is _extremely_ gay. I like my uncle Barry. He's really cool.

Doctor Kelso's speech has finished, we have been split into groups, and we're all going to find the attendings that are supposed to look after us. There are another six volunteers with me looking for Dr Cox. I wonder if he got beat up in high school with that name. Down the corridor from us is a tall man with red curly hair. Curly like the springs inside a mattress. He does not look like a happy chappy. We're standing in front of the man and the people behind me shove me forward, telling me I'm the one that has to speak to this guy. I turned and glare at them first. "Excuse me," I say nervously, "are you Dr Cox?"

"Oh look, it's volunteers," he deadpans. "I _am_ Doctor Cox and since I am apparently in charge of all you yahoos, let me take the time to tell you all the things that I care about _more_ than you people: The US Government. The UK Government. God. Satan. Anything that happens in Seattle Grace Hospital. Hugh Jackman. Lindsey Lohan. And, last and least, this girl," he concludes, pointing at JD, who looks completely astonished and ecstatic. "Oh, and I _hate_ all of those things. With a passion."

O…kay….

* * *

"Hey Turk! Guess what Dr Cox said about me!" JD comes bouncing towards me. "Dr Cox said that he cared _more_ about _me_ than the new volunteers. How awesome is that?"

"Dude, I just had a woman die on the operating table."

JD's face falls. I didn't mean to bum him out, but when a patient dies on the table, it's just horrible.

"You okay, Chocolate Bear?"

"Yeah. It happens." It might happen sometimes, but it doesn't make it much easier. The woman was in a car accident. She was seven months pregnant. Her baby was delivered by C-section a week ago and is fighting for her life up in the NICU. It's been one of those cases that really rattles you; the kind that you remember for years. As a doctor or a surgeon, you get used to telling families that their loved one has passed away, but you don't get used to ones like this.

"Yeah. It does," JD says. I know he understands. Kinda. He's a doctor; he knows what it's like to lose patients. "Well I'm kinda bummed out too. This whole thing with Elliot-"

"Dude!" I interrupt. "I'm about to tell a man that his fiancée is dead and that his baby girl is most likely going to die too. I don't have time for your 'Elliot troubles'."

"Fine! I'll go find someone who will listen to me!" JD storms away in huff. He takes a few steps before turning around, looking at me with a scowl. "You are _off_ the hug schedule for today," he says through gritted teeth. He continues to storm away.

I feel bad. I hadn't meant to be that harsh, but I really don't have time for it. I know how the whole scenario's going to play out anyway. He'll keep his feelings secret from her for, like, _ever_. Then in a couple of months they'll get together for their annual hook-up. That's the route the JD/Elliot train takes every time. It gets annoying after a while.

The waiting room is really busy, but I spot my patient's fiancé right away. He's been here 24/7 for the last week. I really hate having to do this. "Mr Danson…"

--

"Carla, can I talk-"

"Sorry, Bambi," I say, "I'm completely swamped." Right now I'm filling in forms, but actually I'm not swamped. I just can't be bothered talking to him Mean, I know. But what you gonna do? Yesterday he was talking to me for four freaking hours about how he's trying to get Dr Cox admit he's JD's mentor; it's just boring to the point that I was five minutes away from being declared brain-dead. I can't be brain-dead; I've got a six-month-old baby. And plus it's always funny to watch him melodramatically storm off in a huff. And there he goes. Right. On. Cue.

And here comes Elliot. She's looking a little depressed. To be honest, she seemed a little… off for the last few weeks. I would try to ask what's wrong with her and try to fix it, but Turk's bet me that I can't go three months without being a, as he put it, 'busybody smarty-pants'. I can't gossip or try to fix other people's problems. At least, not when they don't ask for help. I _think_ that if somebody asks for help, I'm allowed to advise him or her of the right way to go. I need to check the rules…

"Hey, Carla," Elliot sombrely says. She's got her sad face on. "Can I talk to you?"

Okay, this could potentially be a busybody smarty-pants situation. I have to be extra careful about how I handle this if I want to get those shoes in three months. "Sure. What's up?"

"I don't want to talk here. Can we go to the cafeteria?"

"Uh… sure." This must be quite serious if she wants to go to the cafeteria. She doesn't normally bother about talking at the Nurses' Station. Hmm. "I'll just get somebody to cover for me."

Laverne reluctantly agrees to cover for me for half an hour while I'm away talking to Elliot. I'm nervous. One, something's wrong with Elliot, and two, I'm more than likely to lose a pair of Chanel sling backs. Oh dear.

* * *

Okay. I… am screwed.

Now I really want to tell Elliot how bad an idea it would try the whole dating JD thing again, but that would break the 'no fixing other people's problems' rule. But it's really not a good idea! Everyone knows it doesn't go well. Still, I feel bad for her. She seems really hung up about it. I really wanna help her out.

It's going to be a long three months.

* * *

Good lord, is there anything better than eavesdropping? I feel kinda bad for Aunt Ellie though. JD likes somebody else. Blonde Doctor/ Barbie, whoever that is. There are a few blonde haired doctors about here…

* * *

Since my friends so gloriously blew me off (note the sarcasm), I'm now in the cafeteria hoping somebody will be free to talk to. Alyssa is sitting at a table by herself looking rather bored. She looks as if she'd be free to talk, but since what I want to talk about is my feelings for her aunt, that's probably not the best idea. Then again, I have already spoken to Alyssa, but I didn't know she was Elliot's niece. Ach, what the hell. I think I said that the first time I spoke to her.

"Hey Alyssa," I say as I sit down opposite her. "Where are the other volunteers?"

"Dr Cox told them to go and find the tartan paint," she answers. "It's so stupid. Why would there be _paint_ in a hospital?"

So as the janitor can paint my shoes red.

"So how you doing with this girl you like?"

Okay, she brought it up, not me. As of this moment, I am not responsible for any mental disturbance this conversation may cause. "Horribly. It's like everywhere I go around the hospital, she's there. And everywhere I go in my dreams, she's there too."

"Who's there?"

"I think we'd all prefer it if she were to remain nameless."

"Fair enough." She takes a drink from the water bottle sitting in front of her. "So what you going to do about it?"

"Huh?"

"You can't just do nothing about it. You want to be depressed your whole life. Ask the girl out for crying out loud. What have you got to lose?" She asks. Like it's that easy.

"I'm beginning to see why you and Carla get along so well," I mumble. "What if she says 'no'?"

"But what if she says yes?" Alyssa says.

"But what if she says 'no'?"

"Don't you know anything about the power of positive thinking?" Alyssa says, while rolling her eyes. "Think positively and good things are more likely to happen."

"Aaand just when you think you can't hear any more crap, and volunteer goes and does it," Dr Cox says loudly. I didn't even know he was in the room. Janitor follows him. "Now, since you were the only one _not_ stupid enough to fall for the tartan paint gag, Jumpsuit here is going to show you around the hospital."

"Coolness," Alyssa says as she stands up. She walks away with Janitor and I can only imagine what kind of crap he's going to tell her.

Dr Cox scowls at me and growls. "Get back to work, Sally."

* * *

"Second floor bathroom," I announce. "Avoid them at all costs."

"Why?"

"You don't wanna know," I grimace.

Blonde volunteer's name is apparently Alyssa. I've shown her where the trashcans are, where we keep the beer, you know, the important stuff. We're now at the second floor Nurses' Station, where everybody seems to be very busy.

"Who is everybody about here?" she asks. "I don't know anyone."

"Well that's Dr Beardface." I point to the large doctor with an even larger beard. "And there's Dr Mickhead, although the interns will tell you his name begins with another letter. There's Nurse Laverne. She believes in Jesus."

"My mum believes in Jesus," she says.

"Do you?"

She shrugs.

"That's Scooter," I snarl as he walks past. "Also known as Idiot."

He turns around. "What?"

"See?"

He scoffs and then walks away.

"He's the one that's in love with Blonde Doctor," I add. "Speaking of whom, that's her." I point to Blonde Doctor, who is busy looking at a chart.

Alyssa's eyes go wide with what I assume is shock. "_That's_ Blonde Doctor?"

"Yeah. Why?"

She smirks. "This just got interesting."


	5. My Weird Message

There are some things you never tire of seeing around the hospital. For instance, The Todd having a thumb war with a new person. Today's unwitting victim is Alyssa.

"One, two, three, four. I declare a thumb war."

"Five, six, seven, eight," The Todd says. "I use this hand to master-"

"Todd, do _not_ finish that sentence," Carla threateningly says as Alyssa snaps her hand away.

"Ew," Alyssa says. "Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew." She looks like she could throw up and she's fully extended her right arm so her hand is as far away from her body as possible. "Ew. Ew. Ew," she continues to say monotonously.

"I'll take you down to surgery to sterilise you hand," Turk says to Alyssa. He guides her by the shoulders away from the Nurses' Station as she repetitively says 'Ew.'

I think my happy mood helps me find that absolutely hilarious. See, I took Alyssa's advice and asked Elliot out to dinner. A dinner date if you like. I'm really excited about it; I've been looking forward to this for… ages. It did take a whole seven weeks for me to pluck up the courage to take Alyssa's advice. It's kinda weird, but we're both treating it like a first date. I suppose it is a first date, since we've never technically been on an official date before. I think that's maybe where we went wrong every other time. We kept jumping right into the whole commitment thing, and everyone knows that any form of commitment freaks both of us out to no end.

The hospital is fairly quiet this afternoon. I'm optimistic that I'll get out of here at five. I know Elliot's getting off in half an hour. Speak of the devil; she's walking towards me, instructing the small group of interns that walks behind her to do various things once she's off for the night. One of the interns mustn't like what he's been told to do, because Elliot has placed her hands on her hips and is staring the male intern down defiantly. I think she's been taking lessons from Carla or maybe even Jordan. The interns scurry away, both eager to do things perfectly so they have a chance of being picked to do the cool procedures and a little fearful of the stare down. Hands still firmly on her hips but clearly relieved, Elliot blows the bangs from her face. I think it's really cute when she does that. She looks up and directly at me. Hoping she doesn't realise I've been staring at her for the best part of five minutes, I quickly look back down at the notes I was supposed to be filling out.

I don't think she noticed that I had been watching her because a few moments later she's standing behind me, prodding me in the back. "So where you taking me tonight?" she asks after I turn around and smile at her.

I tilt my head back and scoff playfully. "It's a surprise, Elliot."

Her eyes widen. She almost looks scared and slowly shakes her head at me. "No no no no, you can't do that to me!"

"And why not?"

"I need to know what I should wear."

"You'll look beautiful in anything."

Elliot glares at me. "That is _not_ helping," she screeches; another one of her little habits that annoys other people to no end, but I find endearing. "Just a little help," she pleads.

"Just wear something fancy," I answer. "But maybe not _too _fancy."

"Thank you," she smiles. "That helps a lot." She turns around and walks away from the Nurses' Station.

"Are you looking forward to tonight?"

She stops, turns back around and smiles. "Yeah I am."

"Me too," I reply, as a smiles tugs at the corners of my mouth. I watch as Elliot retreats to the ward to check on her patients for the final time before getting off work.

I am excited, but also a little nervous. Elliot and I have been down a similar road on a number of occasions and it hasn't worked out and our friendship has seriously suffered. I don't know what I'll do if it goes badly again.

Okay, now I'm scared….

* * *

"No, Bambi, I don't have time to help you right now!" I growl. Bambi's been bugging me all afternoon. "I have to give medicine to six patients, change five dressing and file a butt load of paper work."

He raises an eyebrow. "Well, how about I tell Turk about all the gossiping you've been doing?"

Oh, he thinks he's won with that. I turn around, stare him down and say, "Well how about I tell Dr Cox that it was _you_ who told Jordan that he was staying here after his shift ended so as he could watch a football game without her annoying him?"

He's silent for a few moments. "Well played." he says, defeated. "But please please please please please help me when you have time."

I roll my eyes. "Give me an hour," I reluctantly say as I continue to clear up charts.

"Thank you." He turns around and walks away, no doubt smiling at his victory, however small it may be.

* * *

Okay, I've literally just walked into my aunt's apartment, and it looks like a freaking war zone. Now, I'm not the most organised of people when it comes to tidiness, but _this_ is bad. Clothes are _everywhere_. Hairbrushes and sprays and the like are _everywhere_. _Everything_ is _everywhere_!! Seriously, it's quite terrifying. You literally can't see carpet!

"Aunt Elliot, you in here?" I shout quite loudly.

Silence. She must be out already.

I drop my heavy rucksack onto the kitchen counter top. The damn thing has been weighing me down my whole walk home.

The answering machine's blinking. Again. Seems that thing never stops blinking. After I press the button I walk into the kitchen to pour myself a glass of orange juice but I end up spilling it when I hear the voice that left the message.

_"Hello, Alyssa. It's your mother."_

Bitch. I hate this woman.

_"I'm just calling to see how you are and ensure you're doing well with your studies. Goodbye."_

I am _pissed_. To be honest, I don't remember a time when I've felt angrier, ever. She's never cared before; I don't know why she's bothering now. Her tone is just so unconvincing; it's like she's been forced to leave the message.

The message continues.

_"Hi Elliot, it's Brian."_

Oh fantastic. It's Daddy Dearest too.

"Just phoning to see how things are going. Phone back later. Bye." He almost sounds upset.

I don't know what to make of that. Or my mother's message for that matter. Neither of them has seemed to care much before, so why now, eight… ish weeks after they went away? Something weird is going on here. But what? I check the Caller Display, and it says (No Number) called today at 19.30. That was half an hour ago. Surely if they were out of the country the Caller Display would have read 'Out Of Area' like the phone in my parents' house. Maybe they've withheld the number. But why would they do that? Or maybe they've phoned from a payphone, but they're in some foreign country with Doctors Without Borders so I wouldn't imagine there are many payphones wherever they are. Funny, they didn't tell me where they are.

There's been a lot that's not adding up lately. Like, my mother suddenly joining and going off with Doctors Without Borders, when before she'd never had any interest in it before. Or the long trips my father's been taking. He never really says why he's going away, just that he has to go away for business but since he's a doctor saying he's going away on _business_ strikes me as a little weird. If he were going away for a conference, she would say so. Or he'd mention it to the housekeeper or nanny or maybe even my mother. Pretty much anybody but me.

I've always wondered if my parents cared that I was around. Or if they'd notice if I wasn't around. Or even if I'd notice if one of them wasn't around. I don't think I'd really care if one of them wasn't there. I haven't really had a whole lot to do with my parents. I don't really know my parents and they don't really know me. They know I'm their daughter (obviously) but they don't know anything about me. They don't know the random things I like, such as my favourite food or my favourite television programme (which is _Grey's Anatomy,_ by the way). They don't know I'm planning to become a doctor.

If I'm being completely truthful, I'm not exactly sure why I want to be a doctor. I remember being five and deciding I wanted to be a doctor like my parents were, but I can't remember why. I think that maybe on some subconscious level, it was the first time I realised that my parents didn't pay that much attention to and maybe I thought they might notice me more if I was following in their footsteps. I don't think like that anymore. I still don't know why I want to be a doctor. I guess my liking for helping people might have something to do it, but there's no one reason I want to be a doctor. I just do.

I don't know why, but I've been listening to the message my parents left over and over and over again. There's something going on, I know there is. But what's going on is a mystery.

I begin picking up the many sets of clothes that are scattered across the living room. Aunt Ellie must've really been freaking out trying to get ready for her date. Well, dinner. Apparently, it's a dinner, and nothing more than a dinner. Yeah, right then. Yes, I know, I'm a little cynical. What the hell, right?

Once I finish picking up the things that are lying on the floor, I need to write a goddamn English report. Homework on a Saturday night; could I be any more of a geek?

* * *

The dinner date's over. It's been brilliant. Fun. Easy. Nice. Exactly how I'd hoped it would be.

We're now standing outside the door to Elliot's apartment. I thought it would only be right that I walk her to her apartment.

"I had fun tonight," she says as she tries to find her keys in her bag.

"Yeah me too."

Elliot pulls her keys, complete with a teddy bear key chain, out of her bag and quickly pushes her multi-coloured key into the keyhole. "Wanna come in for a coffee?" she asks smiling, as her door unlocks and opens slightly.

"I'd like that a lot."


	6. My New Friend

The cafeteria is quite busy. It's half nine in the morning and I've already been here for an hour. I actually don't need to be here until 10.15, but I needed to get out my aunt's apartment. So, when I first got here, I helped Janitor clean the third floor. He's seems like a nice guy. A bit of a psychopath, but hey, nobody's perfect. I did find his descriptions of his squirrel army quite frightening though…

My right hand clasps a lukewarm coffee cup. Unfortunately for me, it's empty. I drank it all. And I don't even feel any less tired! You see, poor me got hardly any sleep last night. I kept thinking about that message my parents left. It was playing in my head all night over and over again. And over and over and over and over…. You get the point. When I first went to my bed I tried listening to my iPod to get that damn message out of my head. I worked for an hour or two, but then the battery went dead, and I was forced to listen to things I really didn't want to listen to. I actually started reciting the message in my head to distract myself. That plan kinda backfired on me though. Once the disturbing noise stopped and I tried to get to sleep, I couldn't get the damn thing out of my head. And that was the fascinating account of Alyssa Reid's crappy Saturday night.

I don't realise that my eyes are closed and my head has rested on the table until the chair opposite squeals loudly as it's pulled along the linoleum cafeteria floor. I jerk my head up to see Turk looking at me like I'm a freak.

"Are you aware you have a Cheeto on your forehead?"

I glance over at the open packet of crisps, before tentatively putting my hand on my forehead and feeling for the Cheeto. I pick it off and throw it into the empty packet. "Thanks."

"So what's wrong with you?" Turk asks as he sits down.

"I'm tired." I tilt my empty coffee cup and look inside it, as if I was hoping more coffee would have miraculously appeared. I was hoping. What? I'm a sucker for a good miracle. "It's amazing how heavy eyelids are when you're shattered."

Turk lets out a small chuckle. "You should try that cartoon thing where you keep your eyelids open with match sticks."

I shake my head while quickly saying, "Oh god, not again!"

Turk raises an eyebrow. "Again?"

"I was four. It's a long story that essentially ends with me looking like a pirate for a month."

Dr Cox storms past me, coffee cup in hand. "Morning!" I say cheerily, just because I know it will piss him off. He turns around and snarls at me. "Not a morning person, huh?"

"Never say good morning to Dr Cox," Turk warns.

"Okay." I pause. "You know the vending machine down by the maternity ward?"

Turk nods.

"Does that have Red Bull in it?"

"Uh… I don't think so," he answers. "But if you go to the little shop around the corner, you'll find Red Bull a-plenty."

"Um… could I… maybe… borrow a dollar… please?" I ask nervously. I hate asking people for money. Makes me really feel horrible. "I forgot to lift my purse before I left this morning."

"Yeah sure," Turk says, pulling a dollar note out of his wallet. "How come you forgot your purse this morning?"

"Oh, well _that_ is _another _very long story that I don't think you want to know the end of." I grimace, and take the opportunity to direct the evil glare at my aunt, who is sitting at another table talking to her interns, and then also give the daggers to JD, who is also sitting at another table with his interns, trying to stifle what I assume is a yawn. Shaking my head, I look back into my coffee cup before closing my eyes.

"So it's _that_ time of year again."

My eyes blast open, but I didn't realise they were so tightly shut. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Yeah!" Turk says _way_ too eagerly, and I get the feeling he's about to say something that's going to disturb the crap out of me. "They hook every year and become sex buddies for a couple of weeks!"

I can feel my face contorting in disgust. I glance at Dr Cox, who is sitting at the table in front facing me.

"Nice going, Gandhi," Dr Cox says, his tone low and mocking. "Juuuust real nice going."

"Dude, I did _not_ need to know that," I say, once I shake off the initial disgust.

Turk laughs and smiles apologetically. "Sorry."

Turk's cell phone starts ringing. Mental note: ask him how he got his and JD's 'Guy Love' song as his ring tone. They sang it for me a couple of weeks ago. It actually wasn't bad. I kept randomly getting it stuck in my head. God, what is it with me and getting things stuck in my head? I should really get some help with that. Wait, what was I saying…? Oh, right. Turk's cell phone started. He answered it, as you'd think, and he's now bickering with somebody named Jibari. Or Bob. I'm not sure which. Turk says Bob. The very loud voice in the phone insists his name is Jibari. I think Jibari-slash-Bob phoned Turk just to argue. I hate it when people do that. They phone you and expect you to argue with them. Grr. It's one of my pet peeves.

Anyway. Instead of listening to Turk arguing with whom I now assume is his brother, I once again lay my head on the table. When I think I'm just about to doze off, I hear footsteps heading in my direction and they wake me up. Damn.

"Hey Turk."

Turns out the footsteps were JD's. Turk quickly ends his conversation or argument or whatever you want to call it with Jibob (D'you see what I did there?) and turns his attention to JD.

"Hey man," JD says. "Did I leave my ID badge at your place yesterday afternoon? I can't seem to find it."

"Sorry, man." Turk answers. "I haven't seen it.

It's a good thing my head is resting on the table and they can't see my face. If they could, they would see that I'm really struggling not to laugh.

"Carla cleaned the apartment yesterday afternoon," Turk continues. "You should ask her."

"Ask me what?"

Now that was just a timely entrance.

"Baby, did you see JD's nametag when you cleaned the apartment yesterday?"

I think Carla must be thinking it over, because she takes a few seconds to answer. "Uh, no. I didn't. Sorry."

"Damn," JD murmurs.

I giggle to myself and realise almost immediately that I've laughed too loudly. You know when you think you can feel somebody's eyes burning into you? Yeah. Times three.

Carla pulls a chair from under the table and, I assume, sits down next to her husband. "Morning Aly," she says. What's weird is I can actually hear a kind of 'what the _hell_' tone in her voice. Maybe it's not so weird; I am, to those people not in the know, acting pretty weird.

I actually don't bother to lift my head off the table to reply to Carla; I just raise my arm and wave.

"What's wrong with her?" Carla asks Turk, talking in that unsubtle through-the-corners-of-the-mouth way.

Turk answers. "Don't ask."

Turk, Carla and JD start a little conversation about Jibob's phone call. I can feel myself drifting off to sleep so I lift my head quickly. I plaster the cheesiest grin on my face and look at Carla and Turk, my eyes stretched as wide as they can be. They both look at me weirdly for a second or two before nodding and turning their attentions back to JD. They start up a conversation about a patient that Turk is going to be operating on later this afternoon. They speak in a whole load of medical jargon that I really don't understand. You'd think I'd know some medical lingo, you know, with both my parents being doctors, but no. But I'm not getting into the rant about my parents again. I've done that enough during the past two months.

Oh, damn. The message is back in my head. Nice going Alyssa. Did I really just refer to myself in the third person? I've got to stop doing that.

Ever do that thing where you think you've been looking away for just a second but it has apparently been longer than that? Well guess what, I just did that. When I turned my head to look at the lunch menu chalkboard, my aunt was sitting at a table with her interns, clearly mid-conversation. I _swear_ that was a second ago. Now, even they were all _really_ quick, there is no way the interns could have dispersed (actually disappeared out of the cafeteria) and my aunt made it across the cafeteria, bearing in mind she'd have to dodge all of the tables, in the second I was looking the other direction. So… in conclusion (English essay practice, sorry), either I was looking away for a lot longer than I thought I was, or my aunt and her interns have super teleporting powers. Or maybe I need psychiatric help… Never mind.

Back to the point. Aunt Ellie is talking to Dr Cox about another patient, and she's using lingo of the medical kind. I should really start learning some of that. My aunt concludes whatever topic she and Dr Cox were talking about by saying 'Thank you,' and beings to walk away.

"Say Barbie," Dr Cox says, and it causes my aunt to turn around. Dr Cox does this weird thing where he rubs his nose with his index finger. "Where's your ID badge?"

My aunt hesitates and stutters as she tries to think something up. You can just about see and hear the wheels in her head turning. It's actually a bit painful to watch. The expression on Carla's face seems to agree. Am I a total sadist because I'm finding this freaking hilarious?

"You know what," my aunt eventually says, "I think I must've left it here. I couldn't find it this morning."

Dr Cox opens his mouth to start one of his colossal rants, but I stand up out of my chair, which somehow interrupts him, and he goes back to eating breakfast of some sort.

"Well, I'm going to go to the little shop across the street and buy some juice with the dollar Turk gave me."

"Better take two," JD says, handing me a couple of coins. "There are no prices on anything and the staff over there rip off anybody they don't know."

"Well thank you JD. That's very kind." I smile beginning to walk away, but I turn back and I can feel a small, mischievous smirk playing on my face. "Oh, and," I begin, trying to pull what's in my jacket pocket out. I toss what was in my pocket onto the table. "Here are your name tags."

* * *

Okay _this_ is _bad_. This is very very bad. I'm having one of those weird moments when I remember that teenagers can be evil geniuses.

"May I ask, Alyssa," Dr Cox speaks up, "How you have their name tags?"

Alyssa shrugs. "I stole them off the living room floor this morning."

"But _why?_"

"Because stealing their clothes would have been _too_ mean!"

"Never," another voice says. We all turn around to see who it is. Jordan. When did she get here? "You can never get _too_ mean," she continues. "Always steal the clothes."

Alyssa gives a slight but quick shake of her head. "Thanks, I'll… remember that… next time?"

Jordan smiles and nods as Alyssa turns back around to face the main group. "So what's going on?" Jordan says. "These two hook up again?" She points between Elliot and me.

"Yeah," Aly answers. A look of confusion then spreads on her face. She turns and looks at Jordan. "By the way, who are you?"

It's Dr Cox who answers. "Alyssa, meet Jordan. Jordan, meet Barbie's niece Alyssa."

"That's weird," I mutter to myself. "How come Alyssa has been here two months and she and Jordan haven't crossed paths once?"

"That's a good question JD," Turk says and I realise I've spoken louder than I meant to. "But not as good as-" Turk question-coughs.

"Well it's a funny story actually…" It's actually _not _a funny story. I have no idea what I'm going to say next. Oh good, Carla looks like she's about to speak.

"Idiot's didn't take my advice," she says in her know-it-all way, almost as quiet as a whisper. Still, it's loud enough for Turk to hear. He stares at her with a look of smugness.

""I won the bet, I won the bet. Uh-huh. Uh-huh."

Turk's victory song and dance. You see, a couple of months ago Turk and Carla made a bet that she couldn't go three months without meddling in other people's problem or giving out advice. Turk doesn't know Carla didn't even last a week.

"Turk," Carla begins, and she has a smirk on her face that means she knows something somebody else doesn't. "You remember when we making the terms of this bet?"

"Yeah."

"Well, one of them was that you wouldn't do your victory song and dance for three months either, even if I gossiped."

"Dammit."

"You know –" Elliot begins. There's a defensive tone in her voice and I wonder she would have said if Alyssa hadn't spoken.

"How come I found scrubs on the living room on not fancy out-for-dinner clothes?" Alyssa asks. She then shakes her head, like she's trying to shake something off. "You know what. Don't answer that." As she pulls her jacket from her chair, quietly she says, "I don't want to know." Alyssa begins to walk out of the canteen.

"Where are you going?" One of the other volunteers asks Alyssa as she walks past him. "We're supposed to start in fifteen minutes."

"I'm going to buy some Red Bull," Aly answers with a glare in the direction on Elliot an me, added just for effect. "Wanna come to the shop with me?"

"O…kay, sure. What was with the glare at Dr Reid and Dr Dorian?" The teenage guy asks quietly as he and Alyssa walk out of the cafeteria.

"Let's just say they pissed me off," Alyssa says. "Don't ask any more than that."

You know, I think that's the volunteer that Alyssa's been hanging out a lot with. I think he's maybe Alyssa's class or something—

A pager beeps. Please be mine. Please be mine. Please be mine. Nope, not mine. It's Elliot's.

"Oh, crap, that's a code." Elliot hurries out of the canteen, leaving me to face the wrath of Dr Cox, Carla, Turk and Jordan on my own. This will not go well. Now would be a good time for me to leave…

* * *

Lunchtime. It's been a busy day today. There's going to be an M and M (Why do I always think of the candy?) conference this afternoon, so all us volunteers have had to be sorting out the paperwork, making sure it's in the right order and all that kind of thing. Janitor was in helping us tidy up the conference room again, and he was telling us his squirrel army. Again. Well, it was the first time hearing it for the rest of the volunteers but I already heard it this morning. Turns out it's more disturbing hearing it second time round, especially when people keep asking really horrible question about how Janitor 'acquired' the squirrels. Trust me, you do _not_ want to know. The only good thing about Janitor telling us about his squirrels is I didn't have to talk to anyone. I'm not really in a chatty mood today. Shocking, I know. It's just that I'm tired, pissed off and liable to snap at any given moment, so talking to people probably wouldn't have been a good idea. Which is exactly why I'm sitting outside on a bench eating my lunch instead of in the cafeteria with the other volunteers. I'm sitting on the same bench as I was seven weeks ago when my asshole parents dropped me off here and fled the country. Or were supposed to flee the country. I don't even know what the freaking hell is going on with them any more.

So anyway, as I was saying, I came outside to get away from everybody else so I didn't bite anybody's head off. Mission failed, since I can just see black scrubs coming out of the hospital, which means one of the volunteers has come outside. My eyesight isn't great, so I can't quite make out who it is. Oh, it's Michael. That's fine. Michael's been one of my best friends since my parents dumped me here. Don't get into that rant again, Alyssa. I sat next to Michael on the first day at my new school. Oh, that was another thing that gave away that my parents had planned all this. They'd transferred me schools. Michael showed me around the school and introduced me to his friends. And he's also my chemistry lab partner. And he volunteers here too. And he's sitting down beside me.

"Hey, what did you come out here for?" He asks.

"I just wanted some fresh air."

"Okay. Are you sure you're all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

He frowns at me. I think he knows I'm lying. "Really? You've seemed really down all day. Even when we went to the shop, you seemed weird. What's up?"

I stay silent for a couple of seconds. "You know how I don't get on with my parents?"

"They ignored you for sixteen years and then dumped you with your aunt when they decided to leave, yeah."

"So I've told you that story before?"

Michael nods.

"Well, they kinda left a message on my aunt's answering machine last night."

"Really? What were they saying?"

"Well, my mum was being her usual cold-hearted, bitchy self and asking if I was keeping up with my studies as if she gives a damn. Which she doesn't, by the way. But my dad was weird. He didn't ask for me, he asked for my aunt. Said he just wanted to make sure everything was going okay, and he said he would call back later."

Michael furrows his brow. "And your dad's message is weird because?"

"For starters, he _never_ says he'll call back later," I pause for a second. "But he sounded upset. I thought he sounded like he was crying."

"That does sound weird for someone who's a total bastard."

"You know my dad well," I laugh. "But they've been gone nearly two months, why give a crap now?"

"It would be good if I could answer that question, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah, it would be helpful."

"Sorry."

I smile. "It's okay."

"Lunch ends in five minutes; we better go back in."

"Do we have to?" I whine. "Can't I stay out here and sleep?"

"No, you can't," Michael says, pulling me off the bench by the arm.

"Can you imagine how pissed Dr Cox would be if we skived the rest of the day?" I ask. Not that I'm thinking about skipping the rest of my shift.

"I really really really really really really really really really rea-he-_he_-lly don't want to think about it." Michael does a good Dr Cox impression. "Hey, a few of the other volunteers are going to the ice rink after the shift ends. Wanna come?"

"Yeah, okay."

* * *

I'm sitting in Elliot's apartment waiting for her to come home from the supermarket. She doesn't know I'm here. I didn't see her all day at work; we were both too busy with patients. I'm not here for any particular reason, just because I haven't seen her all day. It's been a kinda stressful day if I'm being honest. I've had Carla bugging me all day about not taking her advice. Trust me, when Carla is on your case about not taking her advice, you'll wish the ground will just swallow you whole. Not a good feeling. I thought sneaking into the M and M conference would give me an hour or two of peace from her nagging, but I forgot that Carla has my cell phone number and that she gets free text messages. Good thing I put my phone on silent. Apart from Carla's nagging, today was busy because three of my patients coded and two others were rushed into surgery, which essentially led to a whole day of Dr Cox mocking me, calling me girls' names and telling me how awful a doctor I am. How fun for me.

I hear keys being put through the lock, and the door opens quickly after. Elliot enters, struggling to carry all of her shopping bags in at once. She hasn't noticed me yet.

"You need a hand with those?"

A little bit frightened, Elliot looks up, her eyes as wide as is humanely possible, to see whom the voice belongs to. It's cute how her face softens when she realises it's me and there's nothing to be scared of.

"JD, don't scare me like that again," Elliot says quietly, as I take some of the shopping bags from her and walk into the kitchen. "How'd you get in here anyway?" There's something in her sad tone of voice that tells me that something isn't quite right.

"Alyssa let me in. She asked me to tell you that she's at the ice rink with some friends. She said she tried calling your cell phone, but you never answered."

"The battery died."

"Oh, okay." She's really not right. "So, how was work?"

"Awful. Two of my patients died."

"Oh, that really sucks." At least now I know what's bothering her. "Which two patients?"

"Mrs Peterson."

I know- knew, rather- this patient. She was seventy-five and had been in and out of the hospital with heart and lung problems. Elliot treated her every time she was in the hospital.

"And a four-year-old girl, Hayley. She fell into her parents' pond. She was hypothermic, and she was without oxygen for too long. There was nothing any of us could have done. I had to tell her mother. It was just horrible."

"I'm really sorry." I watch as Elliot unpacks her half of the shopping, a frown omnipresent on her face. "Would you like me put away the rest of the food?"

Elliot nods just a little, and walks towards her sofa.

In the first bag I go to unpack, there is a two litre tub of Ben & Jerry's Cookie Dough ice cream. It's Elliot's favourite. "Did you get this to cheer yourself up?" I say, holding up the tub of ice cream.

Without even looking round to see what I'm talking about, Elliot answers. "Yeah."

I glance down at the rest of the shopping. It can wait. I open Elliot's cutlery drawer, take out two spoons and go to sit beside her. That's when I see that Elliot's crying. "Hey," I say in a tone that I _hope_ is comforting, and put and arm around her and she leans into a hug. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I will be," she says, wiping a tear away from her face. "I've just had a really crappy day." She takes a spoon from me and shovels it into the tub of ice cream and takes a big chunk. "That's a bad idea."

"Don't care," Elliot says, wincing from brain-freeze. She kicks off her sneakers before pulling her feet up onto the couch and leaning her head onto my shoulder. "What did Carla mean this morning when she said it was the second time somebody hadn't taken her advice?"

I really hope this doesn't bite me in the ass. "I asked Carla how I could make sure that this didn't screw up."

"What did she say?"

"She said that we should take things slow and not rush into the whole commitment thing, which means no sex. Apparently."

"Oops."

"Yeah. Elliot, I don't want to screw this up this time."

"Me neither."

"We've spent the last six years making the same mistake over and over again and I couldn't bear for that to happen again. And if taking things slow means we survive, then I'm willing to do whatever it takes."

"So… we're taking it slow?" Elliot asks, with a smile creeping onto her face.

"I really want us to work this time."

"Yeah." I look at my watch. "You know it's Sunday night. You know what that means?"

"Watching the _Grey's Anatomy _rerun in our pyjamas," Elliot answers. She gets up of the sofa, and heads towards he room. She pauses at the door, and turn back around. "We're going to work this time," she says confidently, smiley.

"We're going to work this time," I repeat, and I truly believe it.


	7. My October Challenge

October 1st. Volunteer meeting. At the start of each month (the last two months, anyway) Dr Kelso has called all the volunteers to a meeting for… actually I don't know why he calls the meetings. It's nothing we don't know already. _Blah blah blah, don't piss off the doctors or nurses. They will hurt you._ That's a half-hour meeting shortened to ten seconds. Seriously, as if we didn't know not to piss off the doctors and nurses already. And for the five of us who are 'mentored' for lack of a better word by Dr Cox, we already know that he will hurt us. He wouldn't, you know, beat us up or anything like that (or I would hope not), but his verbal attack rant things are painful. They're painful even if you're not the one being insulted. The rants scare the living crap out of you, so they probably have the desired effect.

Anyway. Most people are using this meeting thing to catch up on homework. Or, if you're a good girl like me and you've already done your homework, you're doodling on a scrap piece of paper. I've been drawing little raggedy Bic pen blue flowers and different smiley faces. There's a cheesy-grin face; a frowny face; a stoned face (I didn't draw that; Michael did) and a confused face. Drawing faces is fun. Just as I'm about to draw a crazy face, Michael steals my piece of scrap paper and my pen. He writes something quickly, and slides the pen and paper back to me.

_How boring is this?_

I smile at Michael. I'm about to write a reply back when I hear Dr Kelso saying this:

"Now, volunteers, I'm going to set a challenge for you this month."

I swear, you have never seen so many heads being raised so quickly_ ever_. You know, I don't think that made much sense.

"This is new," somebody else – I'm not sure who – whispers.

"Over the next month," Dr Kelso continues with a smile on his face, oblivious to the fact we've been talking over him, "I want all you people to organise fundraising activities for the hospital. Now I don't want to scare any of you, but if you fail…" Kelso's smile disappears. "Ted's head will roll."

"Hey," Ted whines pathetically. Sometimes it's hard not to feel sorry for him.

"Oh, and by the way, all your events need to have taken place by the end of this month. Good luck."

As Dr Kelso walks out of the room, my group of volunteers exchange nervous glances.

"Well, I can see this going well," Michael mumbles.

* * *

To brainstorm – wait a minute, isn't that un-PC nowadays? You're supposed to say 'thought-showering' now, aren't you? I don't know who I'm asking. It's not like anybody's ever going to answer me. Anyway, we're all heading over to Kate's house (she's one of the other volunteers, by the way) to think of some ideas for this damn fundraising challenge. But right now I'm walking into my aunt's apartment with the intention of stealing food.

"This place looks like a war zone!"

Oh yeah, and Michael's here too. Calling the place a war zone.

I walk into the kitchen and open the refrigerator door. "Yeah, my aunt's apartment is always like this," I say loudly, because Michael is still standing in the living room. "Should I steal this bottle of Cola?"

"Don't you live here too?"

That's a weird question to ask. "Kinda," I say as I walk to the kitchen door.

"Then why do you keep referring to this place as you aunt's apartment?"

"Because I'm just staying here until my parents get back from wherever they are. Once they get back I'll be going back home."

Michael frowns at me. "Alyssa."

"Yeah?"

"How long have you been 'just staying here until your parents get back'?"

"Um… almost three months."

"And do you know when you will be 'going back home'?"

"No."

"Yeah." Michael stands up. "You live here."

I sigh, but I'm not sure why. Rhyme. Cool. "Take the soda," I mutter, handing Michael the bottle. "I'm going to find actual food." I walk back into the kitchen.

"Hey, the machine's flashing!" Michael says loudly, slightly amused.

Okay, that sounded really wrong. "Press the big green button-y thing."

"_Hello Elliot."_

That can't be…

"_It's Mom."_

Holy crap. It _is_ indeed my grandmother. Are pigs flying?

"Your father and I going to be staying with you the week of your birthday. Your thirtieth birthday. You know, the one you've reached without getting married or having children. Yeah. Well, we'll be arriving on the eighth. Have your spare bedroom ready for us. Bye. Love Mom."

I incredulously laugh, and walk out of the kitchen. "Remember this morning when you said that the volunteers' October challenge was going to go well?" I say to Michael.

"Yeah."

"Well, _this,_" I point to the answering machine, "is going to go even better."

* * *

Elliot's birthday is on the tenth of October. Today is the first. I have nine days to find a perfect gift for her, and I'm working each of those days. I am _screwed_.

I didn't forget that Elliot's birthday this month. I'm not that person. Here's what happened…

_Spending lunchtime with Carla and Laverne could also be known as sitting in on a full-blown gossip session. As much as I love them both, neither could keep their mouths shut to save their lives. Right now they're gossiping about which interns have been sleeping with each of the other interns. I remember when I was that intern… Anyway, I'm eating my pasta salad trying not to be sucked into their conversation._

_"Say, JD."_

_Uh-oh, Carla's speaking._

_"What have you got Elliot for her birthday?"_

_"Um… nothing yet."_

_"Do you know what you're going to get her?"_

_"Oh, I have ideas." Actually, I don't. But if I admit that Carla and Laverne, they'll rip me a new one, and that's not good. I'm going to go hunting for a present this weekend. It'll be fine._

_"Well whatever it is," Carla says, "it better be good. It's Elliot's first birthday that you two are actually together. And plus it's her thirtieth birthday and she's depressed enough about that."_

_That can't be good…_

_Carla takes a drink of her water before turning to look at Laverne. "You always remember the first gift a boyfriend gives you on your birthday, don't you?"_

_"Mmhmm," Laverne answers, and it does not make me feel good. "Mr Roberts took me to Niagara Falls. I told him about wanting to go on our first date and he remembered about it eleven months later."_

_Wow, that's impressive. Then again, they were together nearly a year before the first birthday so…_

_"Turk and I hadn't been together that long before my birthday," Carla says. "But he bought me a really expensive necklace."_

_"How do you know it was expensive?" Laverne asks._

_"Because I had seen the necklace in the window of the jewellers' store and I really liked it, but it was too expensive. I didn't even say that I liked it," Carla smiles. "Turk just knew."_

_Okay, so my vague idea of maybe getting Elliot a nice piece of jewellery is out the window. You know, I've never had any problem buying girlfriends birthday presents in the past. Something is just really different this time._

_"You've got to be careful, JD," Carla begins in her high-horsey-I'm-gonna-give-you-advice tone. "This isn't the first birthday of Elliot's that you two have been together."_

_"Uh, yeah it is," I say._

_" Okay, maybe it's the first birthday where you two are together together, but JD, you and Elliot have been in a relationship for years." I must have looked at her weirdly, because she rolls her eyes and quickly says, "You've been friends for years, JD."_

_"What's your point?"_

_"My point is everything if more serious for you two now. Anything you do means so much more to her now that you're dating. Some things that were fine in your friendship aren't going to be fine in your relationship relationship."_

_"Really?"_

_"Really," Carla repeats._

_"I gotta go."_

The reason I had to go just there was because I was about to have a panic attack. It hadn't occurred to me until then that Elliot and I were actually dating, and that it could all go wrong in the blink of an eye. I guess what Carla said made me think back to the first time Elliot and I (disastrously) tried dating back when we were interns. We started off brilliantly; I had even had a chuckle reserved just for her. It was 'her laugh'. But after a little while we just hated each other, really. She said I never laughed at anything she did, and I accused her of never letting anything go. It was just a disaster. Train wreck. What Carla said made me think. What happens if this all goes wrong again? What do I do if I lose her again? And that's how I end up in a panic. And when I end up in a panic I like to wander aimlessly around the hospital, trying to calm myself down and trying to avoid Elliot so she doesn't realise I'm freaking out.

"Bambi!"

Hey, how did I end up at the nurses' station? You were wandering aimlessly around the hospital, you idiot!

"You're freaking out again, aren't you?" Carla asks.

"How did you know that?"

She rolls her eyes. "Because you've been walking around with your 'deer caught in the headlights' look on your face." Carla does an exaggerated impression of what my face supposedly looked like (wide eyes and mouth gaping), and Laverne laughs loudly.

"Uncool."

"You need to stop panicking."

"Really, Carla?" Sometimes you've just got to use sarcasm.

"Look, you two are fine!" Carla says.

"But what if –"

"You're fine."

"But-"

_"You're fine!"_ Carla slams a couple of charts on the surface of the nurses' station. She turns her head to look at Laverne. "How is he not getting this?"

"He's a fool, that's why."

"Thank you, Laverne." Sarcastic smile.

"So how are you getting on with the birthday gift?" Carla asks.

"If I tell you something, will you promise not to kill me?"

Carla lowers her eyebrows in suspicion. "Okay, I won't kill you," she says, but I'm not wholly convinced.

"I'm completely clueless about what to do for Elliot's birthday." I sigh. "Maybe that's trying to tell me something. I think I'm going to screw up again."

Carla sighs, and mutters something in Spanish. She sounds a bit pissed off. When she looks up, I'm half expecting her to glare at me, but she actually seems to be sort of sympathetic. "JD, how long now have you and Elliot been dating?"

"Just over two months." I didn't even have to think about that.

"And in those two months, have you pissed her off by not laughing at anything she's done?"

"No."

"Have you spoken to her while she's on the crapper?"

"No."

"Has the little voice in your head scream 'I don't want her' while you've been hugging her?"

"No."

"See! You're fine," Carla smiles. "Just calm yourself down, breathe, forget about all of this ridiculous panic and you'll realise you're not going to screw up." She pauses. "And if that doesn't work, know that Laverne and I will kick your ass if you do screw up. Isn't that right, Laverne?"

"Mmmhmm."

"Good to know." I'm walking away from the nurses' station, but I turn back. "Thanks, Carla."

"No problem, Bambi. But I don't want to see you freak out again until you're meeting her parents. Got it?"

"Got it."

"Okay." Carla heads off in one direction, and I head in the other direction.

I better check on Mr Hadaway. Hopefully his temperature will be below one hundred so he can go back to his nursing home. Oh, there's Turk, writing something on

"Hey, Super Chocolate Bear!"

"Hey, Vanilla Bear." Turk turns around so he's facing me. He's got a weird look on his face. "Dude, what's wrong with Elliot?"

Elliot's walking down the corridor, looking really scared and I think she might be crying.

"Elliot, sweetie, what's wrong?" I ask once she's standing next to me.

"My…parents…are…visiting…at…my…birthday," she answers tearfully, hiccupy.

That can't be good. Even Turk cringes. I pull Elliot in for a hug and she rest her head on my chest.

"I can't… deal with… them, JD." Elliot's calming slightly now.

"Shh. It's okay. It's okay." I keep hugging Elliot while she keeps crying, calming after a couple of minutes. "You okay?"

Elliot looks up at me. Even with her eyes red from crying, she's beautiful. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. Just the thought of my parents visiting scares me." Elliot breaks the hug and takes a tissue packet from her pocket. "Okay." She takes a deep breath. "Okay. I need to check on my leukaemia patient. I'll see you tonight at home?"

"Yeah." I watch as Elliot walks off to check on her patient. "Wow," I mutter to myself.

"Dude," Turk says, in the way he does when there's something serious going on. "You know what that means, right?"

"What?"

"You're meeting her parents, you idiot."

I laugh kinda incredulously. And blink. Several times. _"Carla!"_

--


	8. My Girfriend's Parents' Arrival

So, Elliot's parents are arriving tomorrow for five days. To say she was freaking out would be an understatement. She's been talking for the last hour solid and I haven't understood a single word she's said. She's saying fifty words a second about three octaves higher than the normal pitch of speech. It's quite scary, to be honest. But apart from that, she's been kind of down and she's seemed really worried.

As well as constantly talking at a million miles an hour, she's walking quickly around her apartment cleaning things and rearranging things, but in her panicked, freaking out state, she's just making more mess.

"Elliot," I begin, "maybe you should sit down for a little while and chill out."

_Mistake._ Okay, she's glaring at me now. I doubt this will end well.

"JD, my parents are arriving tomorrow. _Tomorrow._ That means I need to clean everywhere and make sure there is not a single hair left on the sofa because if I do then my mother will find it and she'll hold it up and then she'll take endless shots at my bangs and then I'll get depressed and angry and I'll eat as many bags of Doritos as they have in the supermarket and I'll get fat and I'll cut my hair off because I won't be able to get what my mom said out of my head," Elliot says quickly, barely taking a breath. "I don't wanna be fat and bald, JD."

"Your parents can't be that bad, surely." I hope that didn't come out the wrong way. Elliot is very sensitive when it comes to her parents and I don't want to sound as if I'm doubting her in any way, especially when she's this stressed out.

"They can be," Elliot says quickly. "All of my childhood they would be like you're too fat' or 'ooh you aren't getting good enough grades at school'. Anything I did they would criticise. I could never do anything right in their eyes."

"That really sucks, Elliot. I'm sorry."

Elliot waves her hand at me as if she's telling me to forget what she just said. "Maybe I'm just a little more panicked than usual because they're going to be meeting you."

"You think they won't like me?"

"It's not that. It's just –" She pauses, and shakes her head. "You know what, forget it. It doesn't matter." She's not telling me something. "You probably don't want to know."

"Sure I do," I smile. "You can tell me anything."

She hesitates and turns to face me, smiling nervously. "It's not them disliking you that worries me. I hope my parents like you, but it wouldn't bother me if they didn't. Because it wouldn't change how I feel about you."

I gently take a hold of Elliot's hand and after a slight pause she holds my hand too.

Elliot inhales deeply. "What I'm worried about is my parents scaring you off."

"Elliot, that –"

She interrupts me. "Don't say anything, just let me speak."

This is how I know to just to listen. I know that when Elliot says 'just let me speak', she's been building herself up to talk about something she isn't particularly comfortable with. Right now, she needs me to sit here quietly and just listen to her.

"My parents aren't the greatest when I introduce them to a guy I've been seeing. My dad does everything short of holding the guy hostage and beating him for answers about everything. His job, how he grew up, what he intends to do in the future. And if that doesn't scare him away, my dad tells him we're all Republican and that does the trick. But since you already know that, that doesn't worry me. My mom always flirts with my boyfriend, which is really just…uncomfortable doesn't even describe it. I've never actually introduced a boyfriend to my parents since I was twenty-four and I walked in on my mom and my boyfriend Steven…_you know._"

Okay, not a fan of Elliot's mother. What kind of woman would do that to her own daughter? "That's horrible."

"Yeah," she says sadly.

Wait a second. "What did you do when your parents came to town before? Y'know, before us."

Elliot blows the bangs out of her face and quickly says, "I'd make sure I could get whomever I was with as far away from my parents as possible. Not that I had to do that very often seeing as my parents hardly ever visit me."

"So, uh, where would you like me to hide while your parents are around?"

Elliot looks up at me and for the first time in a couple of days I see a genuine smile one her face. And she laughs. "I don't want you to hide anywhere."

"Really? Why not?"

"Honestly, I'm not really sure why. I just weirdly want them to meet you."

"Are you sure?"

Elliot laughs again. "Yeah. I just feel like it's going to happen eventually whether it's in six months or a year, but since they're here why not meet them now."

"Yeah?"

Elliot smiles. "Yeah."

"Want help cleaning?" I pick up a lint remover and help Elliot rid her sofa of hair.

* * *

While Elliot was using her day off to prepare for her parents' arrival, I had to work. For once, I was thankful that Elliot wasn't at work with me, because it gave me a chance to talk to Turk.

"I'm freaking out, man," I say. "Elliot's parents arrive tomorrow."

"So?" Turk says amidst a yawn. He's had a busy shift. "What's the big deal?"

"Uh, her _parents_ are arriving _tomorrow._ And I will be _meeting _them."

"Again." Turk sounds a bit pissed off. "What's the big deal?"

"Her _parents_! That's what the big deal is!" I shake my head. "Didn't you freak out when you met Carla's mom for the first time?"

"She was whacking me with her walking stick… so yeah." Turk pushes himself off of the nurses' station he was leaning on and walks down a hall. I follow him.

"So what did you do after that?"

"Avoided Carla's mom at all cost."

"Then how did you get her mom to like you?"

Turk looks at me weirdly. "I didn't. Carla's mom died, remember?"

"What are the chances of both of Elliot's parents dying before I have to kiss their asses too much?" I wonder to myself, but I realise that I said my thought aloud when Turk glares at me. "Ignore what I just said. I'm not usually that insensitive."

"Look. All you need to do is be polite, say nice things and tell them how much you love their daughter. So basically just kiss their asses" Turk says. He makes it sound so easy.

"I was already planning on doing that."

"Dude, if you were already going to do that then why are you panicking?" Turk asks, breaking his gait for just a second. "You're gonna be fine meeting Elliot's parents."

"I don't know," I mumble. "Elliot told me a lot about her parents and how they've… _dealt_ with other boyfriends they've met. I don't know how to cope with them or how to act or what to do to make sure everything goes smoothly."

"Have you tried talking to Elliot about it?"

"No, I couldn't. She's frazzled enough about her parents visiting; she doesn't need my panic as well."

"I see your point." Turk looks at his watch. "Listen, I have to go and perform surgery. This conversation will be continued in a couple of hours. In the meantime, you need to find someone else to talk to about how to deal with Elliot's parents." Turk starts running down the hall.

"Who's gonna be able to tell me how to deal with Elliot's parents?" I shout to running Turk, but it isn't him who answers.

"Hey JD. What's up?" Alyssa stands next to me, carrying a stack of charts. "Yeah. I'm on chart delivering duty today. It's incredibly boring. So, how's it going?"

"Not great. I'm worrying about your grandparents arriving tomorrow."

"Quite rightly. My grandparents are terrifying."

That is not helping with the panic. "Yeah, so I've been told. So what's the best way to deal with them so that they like me?"

"The key to dealing with my grandmother is making sure she _doesn't_ like you," Alyssa says, walking into a coma patient's room and hooking a chart onto the foot of the bed. "If she likes you she might eat you alive. And I'm not talking about in a protective 'if you hurt my daughter I will kill you' way; she'll actually try to eat you like a lollipop, swallow you and then digest you."

"How do I make sure Elliot's mom doesn't like me?" I mutter to myself.

Dr Cox walks into the coma patient's room. "Talk. _That_ oughta do it."

"Helpful, _really_."

"Noooo problem, Newbie." Dr Cox inspects Coma Guy's IV drip.

"So I've to make sure that your grandmother doesn't like me," I say to Alyssa. "What about your grandfather?"

Alyssa opens her mouth to speak, but she's interrupted by Dr Cox. "Well, Carol, you're gonna want to _not _seem like a little girl, which will be damn near impossible because you _are_ a little girl. Do not speak to your Turtlehead sorority sister – it will just make them think your love him more than their daughter. While everybody around here knows that is true, you don't _them_ to know that. Be sure to have some wipes handy so you can clean off the brown stuff you get on your nose when you kiss her dad's ass. And for the _love_ of _God_, Newbie, do not do that weird daydreaming thing you do when you cock your head to the side and look upwards because it's just plain annoying." Dr Cox looks to Alyssa. "That what you were going to say?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Thought so."

Alyssa waits until Dr Cox has left the room before saying, "If it's any consolation, I was going to be much nicer about that." Alyssa heads towards the door of the patient's room. "Oh, another thing," she says as she opens the door. "Do not call my granddad on any of his crap. I repeat, _do not_ call him on his crap."

"Why not?"

"He doesn't like it," Aly says. "He will also eat you. And once again I'm not talking about the protective 'hurt my daughter and I will kill you' way. I mean he will bite your head off, swallow it and digest it."

"Scary."

"Yeah. Oh, by the way, how are you getting on with my aunt's birthday?"

"Yeah, about that. I could be needing your help with that later."

"Okay," Alyssa says sceptically.

My pager beeps. "Damn it, that's a code. Okay. In case I don't see you before tomorrow: get Elliot's mom not to like me and kiss her dad's ass, don't be a whiny little girl and don't call him on his crap."

"Exactly."

"Okay." I start running down the corridor.

"And don't forget their names!"

I stop suddenly turn back around. It would be pretty hard for me to forget Elliot's parents' names when I don't even know them. "Um…"

Alyssa smiles. "Simon and Lily."

"Thanks." Wait a second… I have no idea where I was going.

"Didn't you just have a code?"

"Right." _That's_ where I was going…

Elliot's parents are arriving _today_. Actually, they're arriving in about fifteen minutes. Elliot asked me to go with her to the airport to pick them up. The arrivals board says that their flight has landed so they should be here to make Elliot's life a living hell any time now.

Surprisingly, Elliot is really calm. She's not fidgeting, or chattering incoherently or trying to make her escape like I thought she would be. She's just standing there coolly and collectively and she's quiet, save for the sound of her foot tapping to the beat of whatever song is faintly playing in the background.

"Are you okay?" I ask. "You're remarkably calm."

Elliot sighs, and yawns. "Yeah, I'm fine. I didn't get any sleep last night on-call and the caffeine I had this morning is wearing off. I'm too tired to freak out."

I laugh and put my arm around Elliot's shoulder. She smiles and leans her head on my shoulder. Her hair falls in front of her face, and when I brush it behind her ears, I see that Elliot's eyes are closed and she's dozing. As much as I want to leave her to sleep, I can't because, one, she's standing up, and two, I don't think she'd appreciate waking to the sound of her parents' voices. "Hey," I say quietly. Elliot mumbles something incoherently. As Elliot leans off of me I say, "I'll get you some coffee from the Starbucks over there."

Elliot doesn't answer. Instead, another female voice speaks.

"Elliot!"

I turn around to see an older woman wearing far too much make-up, followed by a man dragging a suitcase, walking towards where Elliot and I are standing. The phrase 'mutton dressed as lamb' springs to mind about the woman, but I'll keep that thought to myself. I glance down at Elliot, who seems more alert and more nervous than she did just a few seconds ago.

She looks up at me too. Quietly, she whispers, "That's my parents."

I'd figured as much. "You'll be fine," I say gently as Elliot's parents get nearer.

"Hi, mom," Elliot says as her mother hugs her. I can tell she's putting on a brave face.

Elliot's mother smiles before taking a hold of Elliot's hands and inspecting them. "No engagement ring, I see."

Elliot rolls her eyes before giving me an almost apologetic look. "_No, Mom."_

I dislike Elliot's mom even more than I already did. The woman didn't even say 'hello' to Elliot before criticising her.

"Hi Dad," Elliot says. She steps forward as if she's going to give her Dad a hug, but he doesn't respond. "Okay then," she mumbles quietly, frowning. "Um. Mom, Dad, this is JD."

I say hi. I was going to wave, but then remember that I wave 'gay-ly' (Turk's words, not mine) and part of the plan is not to seem too gay.

Elliot's parents look me up and down like they're scrutinizing me. It's quite nerve-racking.

"Uh-huh," Elliot's mom says. Nothing else. Just 'uh-huh.' "Elliot, where's your car?" She says, heading towards the exit door of the airport. Her husband follows her and the bicker about something, but I'm not listening closely enough to know what it's about.

"Oh, God," Elliot says quietly as her parents walk away.

I hug her quickly and say, "It'll be okay. They'll be away again before you know it." I'm not sure if I'm trying to convince her or me.

Breaking out of the hug, Elliot mumbles, "Yeah." She holds my hand and we walk towards the exit doors.

This week's going to be horrible…


	9. My Brave Move

Elliot's parents have been around for just over two hours and already I hate them. They're quite possibly the meanest people I've ever met. In the short time they've been here they have insulted here sixteen times. Yes, I _have_ been counting.

Elliot's holding it together surprisingly well, but I can tell her parents are getting to her. She's a bit more jittery than usual. She's pouring hot soup into bowls just now. Oh crap, and she just spilled some on her hand.

"Ow!" She says loudly, slamming the pot on to the counter before shaking her hand a bit. "Frick, frick, _frick_!"

"Cold water. Put you hand under cold water," I say as I turn on the tap.

Elliot's dad speaks. "What's going on in there?"

"I just burned my hand with the soup," Elliot answers.

"You should be more careful with that."

That can't be Elliot's mother showing actual concern, can it?

"You want to have something for a man to put a ring on."

No, of course not. What was I thinking? That's seventeen. "I'll get the soup," I say quietly to Elliot. "Just keep your hand under the water."

Elliot smiles, stands on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek. "Thank you. Damn, this really hurts," she says quietly.

"Is your hand okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. It's not burned badly; it just really stings."

"Yeah," I say as I pick up a plate of bread. "I'll take this through to your parents." I walk out of the kitchen and into the living/dining room where the Reids are bickering. They've done that constantly since they got here. When I put the plate on the table they instantly shut up and look up at me like I've committed some sort of crime by laying the bread down.

"Soup will be just a few seconds," I say quietly but they just keep staring at me. God, that's scary. Really scary. I think I'll just go back to the kitchen now. Hey, Elliot doesn't have her hand under the water anymore.

"I found a tray on top of the refrigerator," she says.

Weird, she didn't see me walking in.

She turns and smiles at me. "I heard your footsteps."

It's like she's in my head! How can I use it to my advantage?

Elliot heads out of the kitchen, carrying a tray with four bowls of soup on it. "Yeah, don't think I'm putting out tonight,"

Damn. Now she's a future seer. Anyway. I go back into the living room and Elliot is putting the bowls on to the table. Once again, Elliot's parents look up scarily.

"It's the soup," Elliot says quietly.

As Elliot and I sit down, her parents taste the soup. Elliot's mother pulls a face and says, "Where did you buy this?"

Elliot frowns. "I…um… I made it."

"Oh, I thought it was tinned crap!"

"That's eighteen!" Damn, I said that before I had time to even stop myself. And now all the Reids (yes, even Elliot) are looking at me strangely. "It's just a…work… thing."

Elliot clearly did not buy that, but bless her heart she doesn't say anything.

Simon (Elliot's dad) clears his throat. "So, what do you do for a living?"

I'm surprised it has taken him so long to ask.

"Dad," Elliot says. "I told you; JD's a doctor too."

"Elliot, I want to speak to him," Simon says. Ha! Simon Says. "You were saying?"

I wasn't. Elliot was. "Um, yeah. I'm a doctor."

"A cute doctor," Lily says.

I think Elliot is pretending that didn't happen. She tries speaking to her dad again. "We actually work at the same hospital."

Simon completely ignores her. "What's your specialty?"

Elliot rolls her eyes and rests her head in one of her hands. I take a hold of her other hand, which is under the table. She looks round at me and smiles as if to say thank you.

I answer Simon's question and say, "Internal medicine."

"Did you do a fellowship?"

"No," I answer.

"Interesting," Elliot's dad says.

How the hell is that interesting?

"Where are you from?" he asks.

"Trotwood, Ohio."

"What's your mother's occupation?"

Serial remarry-er. "She's a housewife."

"And your father?" What the hell. Is he interrogating me?

"He was an office supplies salesman."

"Was?"

"He died three years ago."

"How?"

"He had a massive heart attack."

"Really?"

I wonder what would happen if I said 'no' right now.

The conversation (interrogation, whatever you wanna call it.) is interrupted by the creaking of the apartment door opening. Alyssa enters and throws her bag on the floor beside the little table. "I hate school," she absently mumbles to herself. Alyssa looks up and her eyes go wide when she registers that her grandparents are sitting at the table. "_That's_ why I was gonna go to chemistry study club tonight," she says, clicking her fingers at the same time as her realisation. "What's up?" She smiles.

"Alyssa," Lily says, shocked. "What are you doing here?"

Slightly confused, Alyssa furrows her brow and gives Elliot a weird sort of 'what the hell is _up_ with _her_' look, before saying, "Um. Grandma, I've been here for four months."

"You have?" Elliot's mom asks. "Why?"

Alyssa growls to herself. She has mentioned before that she'd fed up explaining the situation. Luckily for her, she doesn't have to this time.

"Remember Lily, Brian's out of the country with Doctors Without Borders," Simon Reid says.

Lily looks like she's about to protest. "But I thought-"

"_Lily!"_

Elliot's mom immediately quietens, but gives her husband a disgruntled and almost confounded look. Alyssa closely watches the staring match (for lack of a better word) between her grandparents, while Elliot mouths 'That was weird' to me.

"So, how was school today?" Elliot asks.

"It was shi… it was boring," Alyssa answers, taking a seat at the table. "I sat through what had to be the world's most boring English lesson. Two hours of my English teacher yapping about the significance of relationships in 'The Mayor Of Casterbridge'. I have never wanted to gouge out my own eyeballs just so I would have something else to do more than I did in that class."

"That reminds me," Dr Reid (A.K.A Elliot's dad) says, "I have to give you this, Alyssa."

Alyssa takes the thick brown envelope and examines it carefully. "What is it?"

"I don't know, kiddo," Simon shrugs. "Why don't you open it and see?"

As Alyssa follows her grandfather's instructions, Elliot's mom asks this: "What's with your hair?"

Elliot doesn't even try to answer back.

Lily is still taking shots at Elliot's hair when Alyssa stands up and leaves the table.

"Alyssa, where are you going?" Lily asks.

Alyssa doesn't answer. She just looks down at whatever she has in her hand.

"Alyssa?" Lily says again.

When Aly looks up, she's frowning. "Oh, I just… I have some homework to do." She walks into her room and closes the door behind her.

"That was weird," Elliot says quietly to me.

"So, JD." Elliot's dad is apparently calling me JD now. Okay. "Any siblings?"

And we're back to the questioning. "I have one brother. Dan. He's three years older than me."

"And what does he do?"

Well, he lives in my mother's attic. But I am not going to say that. "He works in real estate." I wonder if that's true. And I wonder if Elliot's dad has any more questions about what work the members of my family do.

Elliot's mom speaks. "So how long have you two been dating?"

"Two months," Elliot answers.

Lily turns her head to look at Simon. "Ten bucks says she screws it up before she turns thirty."

"Mom, I turn thirty in four days."

Lily looks up and smiley bitchily. "I know."

Oh, for the love of God…

* * *

It has been less than forty-eight hours since Elliot's parents arrived and all my energy has gone into not throttling them. So, I'm exhausted. These people are relentless. And I can't tell you how guilty I feel right now. Why do I feel guilty? Because I'm standing here at the nurses' station feeling relieved that I don't have to put up with her parents while Elliot is showing them around the hospital. I'm a horrible person.

"Hey, dude," Turk says as he walks round the corner. I haven't spoken to him much in a few days. "How's it going?"

"It's horrible, it's absolutely horrible."

Turk shakes his head. "So they're giving you a hard time, huh?"

"Oh no, they're not giving me a hard time," I answer. "They're giving _Elliot_ a hard time."

Turk shakes his head again. "That can't be good."

"Yeah. How much time do you reckon I'd spend in jail if I _killed_ them both?"

Turk laughs.

"I'm serious."

"A long time, probably," Turk answers. "How bad are they really?"

"Well…"

This is quite possibly the most excruciating dinner in the history of excruciating dinners. And it's only main course. Elliot has just served beef and peppercorn sauce with some vegetables and potatoes.

_Lily scoffs quietly. "That's simple."_

_How the hell would you know? Your idea of cooking is telling the cook to make you dinner. I'm getting quite good at keeping my thoughts in my head. I cut into the meat and take a bite. "This is good," I say._

_Lilly speaks. "Meat's undercooked."_

_Oh, it is not. She probably just wants something to complain about._

_Elliot stands up and takes the plate from her. "I'll put it back in the over for a few minutes. Anybody else want their meat cooked more?"_

_Nobody else answers._

"I hate to be a cynic," Turk says, "but what's so wrong with Elliot's mom asking for her meat to be cooked more? Maybe she likes her meat really well cooked."

"It _was_ already really well cooked," I answer. "And there also the fact…"

_Elliot returns a few minutes later with her mom's dinner plate half-wrapped in a dishtowel. "Here you go, Mom. How's that for you."_

_Lily eats a piece of her meat. "Burnt."_

"Did Elliot really burn the meat?" Turk says

"No!" I say. "The woman's just never happy!"

"I _hate_ people like that," Turk mumbles. "Now, I'm guessing that's not the only thing her parents have done?"

"There's also the dessert incident," I say.

"What's the dessert incident?" Turk asks.

_Dinner was awkward, what with Elliot's mom refusing to eat her dinner and all. At least there's only dessert to go now. Just simple ice cream. Nothing can go wrong here. God, if Elliot's mom complains that it's too cold, I'm going to throw something at her. IT'S ICE CREAM, WOMAN. ICE. THE GIVEAWAY IS IN THE TITLE! _

"_Elliot," the mother begins, "when you screw up this relationship, remember that the ice cream is not a cure for your depression. You'll only make your problems worse by getting fat."_

"Whoa, what a bitch!" Turk says loudly.

I nod. "Her dad can be just as bad though. Instead of slating her, he ignores her!"

"That sucks," Turk mutters.

"I honestly don't know what to do."

Turk's pager beeps. "Dammit," he mumbles, looking at his pager. "I don't know what you should do either. Maybe you'll be able to think of something by the time I get out of surgery."

As Turk runs down the corridor, Dr Cox walks by. It's him that speaks, not me. "Now, I have heard about your problem with Barbie's parents and this is going to be one of those rare, rare, _rare_ moments when I will give you a nugget of advice. So you will savour it, because God only knows when I will again show enough indifference to you to give you help."

Holy crap. This _never_ happens. "What should I do?"

"Well, Charlotte, I think you should get a backbone."

"Yeah, you tell me that all the time, but what should I do about Elliot's parents?"

Dr Cox looks at me strangely. "Way to girl yourself up there."

He never missies a shot to say I'm a girl. "Seriously, what should I do?"

"Call them on their crap," Perry says. He says it like it's _that_ easy.

Sigh. "I would, but…"

"But what, Newbie?"

"Every time I say I'll stand up to them, Elliot tells me she doesn't want me to. She says she can stick it out until they go away. It actually hurts watching them constantly pick at any shred of confidence she has. But I don't want to piss Elliot off or hurt her by standing up to them." I said that all way too quickly, without taking a breath.

"Well, of course she's going to say that she doesn't want you to take a stand against them," Dr Cox says loudly.

I shake my head quickly. "I'm sorry, what?"

"She doesn't want you to stand up to them because one, she wants them to like you and the chances of that happening are significantly reduced if you call their crap. And two, whenever she tries standing up to them they knock her right back down again and she doesn't want to see you get hurt like that," Dr Cox concludes. "And I'll bet that she really wants to stand up to them herself but she doesn't know how."

"I wouldn't care if they tried to knock me down, though."

Dr Cox nods emphatically. " Ex_actly_, Ashlie. See, now you need to decide what's the lesser of two evils: having Barbie maybe being pissed at you, or watching them knock her down for the whole week?"

I nod. "How do you know all that?"

"If I told you," Dr Cox whispers, "I'd have to _kill you_."

"Thank you, Dr Cox."

"No problem, Newbie," he says softly. "Now I've got to find something to erase this moment from my memory."

I take out a note from my pocket. "Here's five bucks for Scotch."

"Thank you, Val," he says, snatching the money from my hand. "Heads up, Reid family are approaching."

As Dr Cox walks off, I turn round to see Elliot and her parents walking towards me. Elliot's smiling, but it seems more like relief and genuine happiness. "Hey," I say to her quietly.

"Hey," she replies. "Ready to get something to eat?"

"Yeah, I'm starving," I joke.

Elliot laughs. "Me too."

"Didn't you eat enough last night?" Lily scoffs.

Elliot ignores her as we all walk in the direction of the cafeteria. Maybe Dr Cox was right…

* * *

You know what's really annoying about my grandparents being here? You know, apart from the fact that they, as people, are annoying. They… are _everywhere_. Seriously. Everywhere. I go home. They're there. I got to the little shop around the corner. They're there. Sacred Heart Hospital. They're there. School. Okay, so they aren't at my school, but school doesn't count because there, instead of them annoying me, I have teachers nagging me. And my granddad did drive me to school this morning. It's like I can't get a break.

Which explains why I'm sitting in the cafeteria alone. Well, alone-ish. There are about fifteen other people in here, but I'm sitting at a table by myself. The truth is I could really have done with my grandparents not being here. You see, that package that my granddad gave me was from my dad. The dad that pissed off out of the country, that one. Yeah. Well, in that package were a quite a few photographs. Mostly kinda old photos of me when I was just a little kid, and my parents when they a lot younger. I think a few of them might have been taken before I was born. There was also a note from my dad. And when I get things like that from him (notes, messages etc) I like to sit on my own and think about it and basically pathetically wallow in self pity. I haven't had much time to do that with my grandparents being here, so I'm doing that now in the cafeteria.

I must have been away in a world of my own because I jump in fright when Michael sits down opposite me.

"What's up?" He asks.

"Nothing much really. Just the usual." I slide everything my father sent me across the table.

Michael takes everything out of the envelope and starts reading the note aloud. "'_I found these and thought you might like to see them. I think you'll like looking at them. Hopefully I'll see you soon. Love, Dad.' _Well, that's strange. What are they anyway?" He says, more to himself than me. "A photo of you in a little tartan dress. You in a fringed poncho sitting on your dad's knee pointing at _something_. Baby you sleeping on your dad's shoulder. Oh, and what looks like a family portrait of you, your dad and your mother." Michael continues to look through the photos as he says, "Well, I don't know what to say to that."

"Well to be honest, neither do I."

"You're really young in all of these photos," Michael comments.

"Yeah, I noticed that too. I think the oldest I am in any of them is about four. Maybe five." I stay silent as Michael continues to look through the photos. "I'm just so sick of this. I know there's _something_ that _somebody_ isn't telling me. I just can't figure it out. Take the other night. My grandmother asked me why I was here, and it was like my grandfather was trying to stop her from saying something. She had something else to say when my granddad said my dad was out of the country."

Michael seems to ponder what I've said. He waits a few seconds before saying, "Dude, your family is fu-"

He's interrupted one of the volunteers, Kate, sitting down next to us. "To be continued," Michael says quietly.

"Hey, guys," Kate says. "How's it going?"

"Fine," I say, quickly gathering up everything my dad sent me.

"_Dude!" _Michael says in a panicky-ish tone. "Your grandparents just entered with you aunt and Dr Dorian."

"Damn. Uh, okay. If I keep facing the other way maybe they won't see me."

Kate looks confused. "Why wouldn't you want them to see you?"

Michael answers for me. "It's a long story; don't ask to be told it."

"Would you two just keep on the look-out and tell me when they disappear?" I ask.

They both nod.

"So," Kate says, "About the challenge. What are we gonna do?"

"I have no idea," Michael says."

"What are the other groups doing?" I ask. Maybe that can give us some sort of idea what to do.

"Well, the Mickhead group are doing a sponsored lyrical conversation," Kate says.

I look at Michael, who has the same confuzzled expression on his face as I have on mine. "What the _hell_… is a _sponsored lyrical conversation_?"

"It's when you only speak in song lyrics," Kate answers quickly.

"_Okay,"_ Michael says. "I am not doing that."

I nod my head in agreement, and say, "What else are people doing?"

"One of the other groups is doing bake sale type things."

"Bake sales?" Michael scoffs. "What are we all, twelve?" He shakes his head for a couple of seconds before his eyes go wide. "Halloween is this month; why don't we arrange a fancy dress day?"

Kate and I start laughing.

"What?" Michael says, trying to sound as if he's wounded, which only makes us laugh more. "_What?"_

"You can't piss all over a bake sale idea then suggest a dress up day," I say, still laughing.

Michael whines, "Why not?"

"Because you just _can't_," Kate answers. She's still laughing too.

"But-"

Michael's retaliation is cut short by the sound of a chair scraping the floor and something slamming a table loudly. The cafeteria silences, and everybody turns to see what the noise was.

"What is Dr Dorian doing?" Kate asks.

"I think he's about to sign his own death warrant," Michael says.

We all start listening to what JD might say.

"I have had _enough,"_ he spits.

I turn to look and Kate and Michael. "Yeah, he's signing his own death warrant."

"This can't be good," Michael mutters.

"Two days you have been here and you have not stopped ridiculing Elliot or belittling her or saying she's no good. What kind of parents _are_ you? What, did you just come out here to make her life a living misery? Or were you bored making your Hispanic maid run around in circles after you? Do you just like taking shots at anything Elliot does? Do you two get some sort of sick enjoyment kicking when she doesn't have the confidence to retaliate? I don't understand you two, and I don't understand how you can't see Elliot for what she is: a caring, sensitive, beautiful person who I love."

Kate whispers to me. "Did he just say he loves her?"

"I think so," I answer quietly.

JD keeps shouting. "If you can't see her for what she really is then it's your loss. She doesn't deserve to be your verbal punch bag. She doesn't need to take this. Come one, Elliot." JD grabs my aunt Elliot's hand, and they walk out of the cafeteria together quickly, right past Laverne.

Laverne inspects the facial expressions of everyone in the cafeteria. "Did I miss something good?"


	10. My 'WTF' Moment

Holy _shit._ What did I _just do?_ No, seriously. What did I just do? Oh, that's right, I just yelled at Elliot's dad in the cafeteria, in front of everyone. There is no way that this can end well for me!

Oh god, Elliot looks completely shocked, dazed maybe. "JD… wha…why… what?"

I barely have time to work out what she was saying before Alyssa walks over to us. "Okay, first of all, that was _awesome,_ but what the _hell_ were you thinking, dude? That is so going to be the last thing you do!"

"It can't be that bad, can it?" I say.

Elliot nods weakly, while Alyssa and Carla both say, "Hell yeah it is!" Hey, where did Carla come from?

"JD," Alyssa begins, "you seriously underestimate how much my grandfather does not like to be stood up to. You better say your goodbyes my friend, by the way, because he will _kill_ you. Actually _kill you_."

This must be really bad because even Elliot breaks out of her shock-induced daze to nod in agreement.

Turk is walking up the corridor, looking behind him every couple of seconds. "Dude, I don't know what you did, but Elliot's dad is _pissed._ He's coming after you. I mean, he's after your blood."

Oh crap. Wait a minute. "Didn't you _just_ get paged to surgery?"

"Yeah, I did but it was just some prank pulling intern whose ass I am gonna kick later," he explains.

"Okay, you better run," Alyssa says. "Just run and hide, the two of you."

Turk gives Alyssa the 'what?' look. "Why would Elliot have to run too?"

"Because my grandfather is really scary and he can sure as hell wangle the truth of Aunt Ellie."

"Hey," Elliot says quietly.

"Truth Glare?" Alyssa answers back.

Elliot nods and says, "Yeah."

It's Carla who asks the obvious question. "What's Truth Glare?"

"It's this look my father uses when he's trying to get the truth out of someone in the family," Elliot answers. "None of us can keep from cracking."

"It's true," Alyssa adds.

"Dude," Turk says in his emergency voice. "Angry father walking up corridor."

"Okay, we'll throw him off course; you just run," Alyssa utters quickly. "Runrunrunrunrunrunrun!"

Elliot and I do run. I'm about to run further down the corridor when Elliot drags me into a supply closet. It's the one we both hid in during our first code. "Why the supply closet?"

"Old habit," she answers without missing a beat. There is a silence, and then she starts laughing.

"What?" I ask, but Elliot keeps laughing. "What is it?"

She tries to get herself together, even stopping laughing for a moment but she crumbles again "It's nothing. It's just… you actually yelled at my dad." She laughs for a couple of more seconds before calming. "Nobody ever does that."

I don't know what to say, so I say nothing.

"Wh…why did you?" Elliot asks quietly, looking at the ground.

"I just couldn't," I say quietly. "I couldn't watch them constantly ridicule you and put you down. You don't deserve that. You shouldn't put up with it."

Elliot smiles at me sadly and says, "Sometimes it's just easier to put up with them until they go back to Connecticut. I just… don't have the confidence or strength to stand up to them."

"Well," I say, running my hands through her hair and gently pulling her towards me until her faces is barely a few inches from mine, "now you don't have to stand up to them. 'Cause I'll always stand up for you."

"What you said in the cafeteria," Elliot says quietly. "The 'you love me thing'. Did you really mean that?"

"Yeah," I say. "I love you, Elliot."

Elliot smiles. "I love you too." She kisses me.

* * *

You'd think I'd be terrified of my granddad when he's this angry, wouldn't you? Nope. I'm struggling to keep myself from laughing. It's hilarious, really. He's like some sort of caricaturist's picture of a very _very_ angry man. Almost vertical eyebrows, bright red cheeks. If he were a kids' cartoon character, he'd have steam coming out of his ears. And he's walking – no, charging – towards Carla, Turk and me.

Turk is the first to speak when my granddad reaches us. "Sir, are you okay?" He says nervously.

"And where's Grandma?"

"She's in the cafeteria flirting with some Frankenstein look-alike janitor," my grandfather answers. "Poor guy."

I think the lack of surprise or annoyance in my grandfather's voice confuses Carla and Turk, because they're both looking at me questioningly. I just shake my head. The reason my grandfather and I aren't surprised is my grandma flirts with everyone, everything. Basically, if it moves and breathes, it's fair game. My screwed up family, ladies and gentlemen.

He hasn't yet mentioned anything about why he's so annoyed, and I can't help prying. "Why so angry?"

"Alyssa, that sentence doesn't make sense," my grandfather says. I forgot he was a stickler for good grammar. "What did you ask me?"

"Why are you so angry?"

"That 'boyfriend' of your aunt's," he says simply.

"What did he do?" Turk asks tentatively.

"He gave me attitude about how I treat my daughter," my grandfather says.

Carla steps forward just slightly. "So now you want to kill him?"

"Yes, but I don't know where the rat bastard is," the grandfather mumbles. "And I know these people aren't going to tell me." He points between Turk and Carla. "But you, Alyssa, well I know you wouldn't lie to me. Would you?"

Okay, he's starting to look at me funny. Crap, it's the Truth Glare. TRUTH GLARE, TRUTH GLARE! SOMEBODY HELP ME HERE!

"Excuse me sir," Dr Cox says. I have never been so happy to see him. "The idiot you're looking for went down that way." He points down the hall in the opposite direction to where JD and Elliot went. _That's_ weird.

"And why should I believe you?" My grandfather asks sternly. "Aren't you a friend of it?"

"Absolutely not," Dr Cox answers.

Turk speaks. "It's true."

So does Carla. "He hates him."

My grandfather seems to consider what Dr Cox has said. After he few moments of thinking he thanks Dr Cox and storms off down the corridor. Carla, Turk and I wait until he's turned the corner before we throw questioning looks at Dr Cox.

"Shut up or die painfully," he says before walking away.

"Sometimes I don't understand that guy," Turk mumbles.

"You know," Carla begins, "maybe somebody should go and save Janitor."

Turk and I speak at the same time. "We're on it."

We're walking down the corridor towards when Turk starts to speak. "Your family is so screwed up."

"Yeah," I mumble quietly.

"Seriously. How to you deal with that?"

"By not seeing them too often and by pretending I'm adopted."

"Nice," Turk says.

We turn into the cafeteria. Poor Janitor; he looks so frightened. I'm not surprised though; my grandmother does have her hand on his ass.

"Is there a good therapist around here?" I ask Turk.

"I hope so, 'cause that guy is going to need it."

We both stand silent for a moment, and watch as my grandmother stick a finger in Janitor's ear. This poor guy's going to be scarred for life.

I tentatively step forward. "Uh, Grandma?"

She doesn't even seem shocked or embarrassed that she was just caught by her granddaughter committing what can only be described as assault against Janitor.

"I'm not disturbed," I mutter quietly and sarcastically to myself. "Grandma, uh, why we… go out… shopping?"

My grandmother turns and smiles at me. "Where?"

"Um…" Good god, why can't I think of anywhere?

Turk speaks up. "Alyssa'll show you where all the good liquor stores are."

Oh great. Something that will make my grandmother more of a bitch than she is right now. "Yeah, _that's_ what I'll do," I say quietly to Turk.

"Just go with it," he replies through gritted teeth.

This won't go well. "Yeah, that's what I'll do," I say with fake enthusiasm. "Grandma, do you want to wait downstairs just now while I go and get my coat?" Please go, please go.

"Yeah, okay." She walks straight out of the cafeteria.

Once she leaves, I turn to Turk. "What the hell? You just told me to take her to a liquor store. She bad enough when she's _sober_!"

"Look. I have it on good authority that the guy who works at the counter will flirt with _anyone_. And I also have this on good authority: so will your grandmother. Just look at the Janitor."

I really feel bad for that guy. He's standing right now looking pretty shell-shocked. I'm not sure he even knows what just happened.

"You just take your grandmother over there and let her flirt with that guy and buy us some time," Turk says.

I'm seriously confused. "Buy some time for what?"

"For us to figure out a way to get JD and Elliot out of the country you're your grandfather doesn't kill JD."

"Riiiiiight," I say sarcastically, before I point at Janitor. "Look at that."

Turk steps forward nervously. "Hey Janitor, are you alright?"

The Janitor turns around to face Turk and me, but his movements are jittery and he's shaky. He doesn't say anything, but tries to hug Turk.

This takes Turk by surprise. "O…kay."

As Janitor continues to hug Turk, I sneak out of the cafeteria. I am _so_ not looking forward to this. Oh, hey, Michael's standing right outside the cafeteria.

"Dude. What the _hell _is going on?" he asks.

I shake my head. "If I knew that, I would tell you. The only way I can describe the last ten minutes is 'WTF'."

Michael looks back at me with some weird sort of confounded expression.

"Think about it for a minute," I say sardonically. "Anyway, I just got told by Turk to take my grandmother to a liquor store."

Michael raises an eyebrow. "That woman is bad enough sober."

"That is _exactly_ what I said."

"So _why_ have you been told to take the Wicked Witch Of Connecticut to the liquor store?"

I look at Michael curiously. "The Wicked Witch of Connecticut?"

He laughs. "I've been waiting to use that for the last week."

"The last week," I say incredulously. "They've been here less than two days. Which actually makes this whole situation even weirder."

"Back to the point," Michael says, making an arrow shape with his hands for emphasis. "Why do you have to take it to a liquor store? And you're supposed to be working just now."

"I have _no idea. _And I am supposed to be working right now, which is why you're going to do me a favour."

Michael looks a little confused. "I am?"

I nod. "You are."

"What am I going to do?"

Using hushed tones, I say, "You're going to cover for me. If anybody asks where I am, you make up some story."

"Like what?"

"Think of something!" I say louder than I meant to.

Michael shakes his head doubtfully. "Lys, I don't know."

"Come on, please?" I use my best puppy dog eyes. Come on, Michael. You know you want to help me.

He sighs resignedly. "Fine."

I jump a little bit. "Yay. Thank you, thank you. I promise I'll be as quick as I can. I may even just leave her there."

"Would that work?" Michael asks ponderingly.

"I think it might," I reply in the same tone. "Okay, gotta go." I start to walk quickly down the corridor, but I stop, and turn back around to face Michael. "By the way. 'Lys'?"

"Yeah," Michael says. "The middle part of A_lys_sa."

"Right," I say quickly. Then I start walking along the corridor again to find my grandmother and drop her off at the liquor store across the street.

What in the name of holy guacamole have I let myself in for?"

* * *

I have been in this liquor store for less than five minutes. And I hate it. Stinks of liquor. Funny that, Alyssa. It's a _liquor_ store, you _twat_.

It didn't take long for my grandmother to sniff out the guy that Turk was talking about. It was almost like she was a magnet, and he was an opposite magnet. They seemed to click that quickly. She's hasn't stopped talking to him since we've been here. For the sake of my own sanity, I have _not_ been listening to what they've been talking about, but I could bet all of my money (which at last count amounted to two dollars and seventeen cents) that their conversation has had sexual innuendos galore. Not really what I want to be listening to.

I do not feel good being here, especially because I know I'm supposed to be working. If Dr Kelso finds out I've been (for lack of a better word) skiving, he'll kill me. Or maybe not. Dr Cox did divert my grandfather away from my aunt and JD. Anything is possible today. Still. I really should go back. But I can't really leave my grandmother here either. Although. I don't think she'd notice if I wasn't here. She's too busy 'talking' to the alcohol-selling guy. Oh, to hell with it…

"Grandma, I really need to go back," I say, not loudly, but loud enough for her to hear me. If she doesn't acknowledge me, then I'm outta here!

She doesn't even notice that I've spoken. Bingo!

* * *

Ah, sweet relief. I am out of the liquor store where my grandmother, I would expect by now, is fondling the guy who runs the store, and back into the hospital. I'm actually in the elevator right now. Seems that news of what happened in the cafeteria (JD tearing my grandparents new ones) has spread quickly. Two people who I have never seen before (I don't even know what department they're in) were talking about it. Apparently, the only thing in this hospital that spreads faster than infection is gossip.

The elevator doors open and I see Michael leaning against the wall. "What are you doing?" I ask.

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Nothing?" I say, almost optimistically.

He smiles at me. "_Exactly._ You're back early," he states.

"Yeah. Well, I _might_ have left my grandmother over there."

"Niiice," Michael smiles.

"What are we supposed to be doing this afternoon?" I ask.

Michael thinks for a couple of seconds before answering. "I'm not sure. Should we ask someone?"

I nod.

We begin to walk down the corridor. I glance down at my foot and notice that my lace is loose. "Hang on a second," I say to Michael as I kneel down to fix my lace.

"What the hell?" I hear Michael mumbles.

Still kneeling, I look up at Michael and say, "What?"

He points down the corridor. I stand up and see my grandfather storming down the corridor, opening every door he passes and looking inside.

"That's a strange one," I say quietly to Michael. When my granddad stand closer to is I say, "Granddad, what are you doing?"

"I'm looking for that insolent little bastard," he replies angrily.

Michael widens his eyes. Then he says, "Okay, I… uh… I'll go and find out what he have to do this afternoon."

"Oi, don't leave me here," I say quietly as he scurries off quickly. "I'll kick your ass later!"

"Language, Alyssa," my grandfather says sternly.

"Sorry," I say quickly. Wait. Why am I apologising? He swore not even thirty seconds ago. "What's up, Granddad? Calmed down yet?" I ask, almost sarcastically.

He replies in the same tone. "Do I look like I've calmed down?"

I shake my head.

"Walk with me," my grandfather says. "So how do you like staying with you aunt Elliot?"

This is _not_ at all strange. "It's good, I guess. Why are you asking?"

"I'm just wondering," he answers. "Do you have fun here? Do you have good friends?"

"Yes," I answer tentatively.

"How is school? Have you settled in there well?"

You know how you get those moments where you are completely confused as to what's happening? This is one of them. "It's good. It got eighty-eight percent on my last biology exam."

"That's brilliant, sweetheart." My grandfather then says, "Could you excuse me for one moment?" He opens the door to a supply closet and looks inside.

"Granddad, seriously, what are you doing?"

"I'm looking for your aunt's boyfriend so I can kill him."

"Why?"

"Not a person on the Earth speaks to me like that."

"But he was only saying what you deserved to hear." Oh, I did _not _just say that.

My grandfather is _not_ amused right now. In fact, he's glaring at me_. "What_ did you just say?"

Well, you know what, he's going to kill me anyway now. I might as well go for broke. "You and Grandma have been the nastiest people to aunt Ellie since you got here. So, yeah, you deserved every word JD said in the cafeteria." Any chance those will go down in the record books at the worst last words in history?

I hear a 'ding' noise. What do you know; I'm standing at the elevator again. And the doors are opening. "I'll be seeing you later," I say to my grandfather as I sneak into the elevator. Now all I've got to hope for is the doors to close before my grandfather enters the elevator. Close, close, close, close. They do! _Nice!_

* * *

It has been four hours since I yelled at Elliot's parents in the cafeteria and I have not seen them since. Unfortunately, I haven't seen Elliot either. Since we left the closet (there's something that sounds so weird about that) I've been rushed off my feet with codes and bloods and other stuff. I assume Elliot's been busy with the same. Oh. And there's also the added fact that I have been taking the longest possible route to get places in the hope that I'll avoid Elliot's parents, especially her dad, all day. It seems to have worked.

I've been thinking a lot about this morning and about what I said. The 'I love Elliot' thing. Even though that wasn't how I'd planned to say it, I'm still really happy that it happened. And to be honest, I'm not sure how I planned to say it, but I was going to. Soon. Really soon.

My shift was over fifteen minutes ago. For that matter, so was Elliot's. I've been looking for her, but I can't find her. I've tried paging her too. She's probably just checking her patients quickly before she leaves. So I'll just stand at the nurses' station and wait.

Alyssa and Michael are walking down the corridor, talking about something. Alyssa holds her arm out.

"Can you smell liquor off of me?" she asks. "I'm serious. I think I can still smell liquor off of me."

Michael smells her sleeve. "I can't smell anything."

"Are you sure?" Alyssa asks, as they reach the nurses' station.

"Why would you smell of alcohol?" I ask curiously.

Aly shakes her head. "Don't ask. Seriously, don't ask."

"Hey, I'm surprised you're still alive," Micahel says jokingly. "I thought her grandfather would have had you hung, drawn and quartered by now."

"I have been avoiding him at all costs. And Elliot's mother for that matter."

Alyssa speaks. "Yeah, she's not here."

"She's not?" I repeat. "Where is she?"

Alyssa remains silent as she appears to think for a moment, tilting her head to the side and looking upwards. "Let's just say she's in her happy place."

Michael scrunches up his face. "Will she still be there?"

"It would not surprise me," Alyssa answers.

"Have either of you seen Elliot, by the way."

Alyssa says 'Not since this morning." She glances past me, then her eyes go wide and she hides behind the nurses' station. Okay then.

"Damn. I was kinda hoping we could've got out of here before her parents realise we're gone."

Michael has a similar facial expression to Alyssa. "Uh, _dude," _he says.

"What?"

I feel a tap on my shoulder. Turning around, I see Elliot's dad. Oh crap, I'm a dead man now.

"Relax," he says. "I'm not going to kill you."

He's _not_?

"And Alyssa, I saw you ducking behind the nurses' station."

Alyssa stands up. She almost looks scared. "Hi," she says nervously.

Simon starts talking again. "I wanted to apologise to you."

What in the hell? If this isn't one of my random daydreams, this is really weird.

"I have been a very vile person towards my daughter since I've been here and when I next see Elliot I will also apologise to her."

_Resist urge to say you have thirty years of apologising to do_.

"I wanted to say that I fully respect you for standing up for her and that there are no ramifications. I will admit that at first, I was ready to kill you, but then I spoke to my granddaughter who made me realise that what you did was the right thing. I don't see Elliot very often, but even I can see that she's happiest when she's with you, even if her mother and I are making her life a misery. You were absolutely right to speak to me the way you did because I wholly deserved it. So I apologise." Elliot's dad doesn't say anything other than that. He just walks away.

The three of us who witnessed that are completely speechless. Well, we were. "What… just happened?" I ask incredulously.

Nobody answers.

We sit in silence for a few moments until I hear Elliot's heels clicking up the hallway. She stops suddenly, looks at all of our facial expressions then starts laughing hysterically. "I have no idea what just happened to you three," she says. "But the looks on your faces are priceless."

Again, nobody answers.

"Seriously, what just happened?" Elliot asks again.

"That is a good question," I say.

--


	11. My Budding Plan

**

* * *

**

**AN: So this is the first update on the new account. :)**

**

* * *

**Ah, it's a good feeling knowing you put your girlfriend's jackass parents in their place. It is, trust me. Since I told Elliot's parents off for the nasty way they were acting towards her, they've been getting along great. It's all been smiles and hugs and kindness. Of course, it's all been fake, but if it makes it easier for Elliot to put up with them, I'm not going to say anything.

While Elliot has been getting along with the parentals, I have _not._ Apparently they (and by that I mean Elliot's father) have a problem with the fact that I stood up to them. Sure, her dad did apologise a few hours after it happened but that appears to have made him hate me more. Seems he isn't the kind of person who takes being in the wrong very well. Funny that.

Since Elliot's dad and I aren't exactly seeing eye to eye, I've been staying in my own apartment for the last few days. I haven't done that in ages, apart from the odd night here and there when I've been on call and Elliot hasn't, or vice versa. It's weird; I've been quite bored at my apartment by myself. I guess I'm not really used to it so much now. I've been spending most of my time with Elliot.

I haven't seen much of Elliot for the past few days lately. That's partly because I haven't been staying at her place, but it's also because I just have _not stopped working!_ Honestly, it's like every time I'm just about to end my shift, another emergency is rushed in and I have to take care of it. I don't mean to sound insensitive, but can't those people time their car accidents and heart attacks better? You know, time them so _I_ don't have to deal with them! Like I said I'm not normally that insensitive, but when other people make me spend more time at work than I'm supposed to, I get cranky!

_Anyway. _Elliot's birthday is in two days. And, luckily enough, we're both off work that day. Elliot had the day off anyway; I swapped shifts with someone. Elliot's decided that she wants her thirtieth birthday to be low-key. She really doesn't want me or Carla or Turk to make a big deal. She says her parents (and by that she means her mother) will use it as an excuse to mock her and ridicule her and make her feel bad about the fact she's thirty and she's not married and she doesn't have any kids. I know that stuff doesn't bother Elliot, at least when her parents aren't around, but her mother is a malicious woman.

On the subject of low-key birthdays. Elliot's birthday will be seriously low-key. She really doesn't want a fuss. All she wants is to hang out, if the weather's nice maybe have lunch in the park and later on a night just watch some DVDs. See, really low-key, really relaxed. It'll be great.

"Morning, doctors."

Oh great, it's Dr Kelso. And he's not in a good mood today. He hasn't had his morning caffeine fix. That's gonna make work better today.

"Here is the revised schedule for this week. Please note that you _all_ have extra shifts to cover Mickhead's absence."

Mickhead's absence? I wonder if another one of his wives has died suspiciously. Wouldn't surprise me.

Dr Kelso continues talking. "Be sure to check the schedule carefully. There will be know shift switching from these schedules. And if the new rota interferes with any previously made plans, please, allow me to say… _tough crap._ Enjoy!"

Once Dr Kelso walks off, all the doctor's scramble to see the new rota. Nobody wants to be working extra shifts. My eyes scroll down the list until I find my name.

_Crap._

* * *

Let me be one of many to say this: fire alarms suck. Actually, most of the time they don't. Most of the time they at least mean time out of class, but this is one of those times I would rather be in class. You see, it's pouring with rain and I'm standing outside with just a my thin shirt and my tie. No sweater, no jacket. Just a shirt. And pants, of course.

"The one day," I growl. "The one day I don't wear a coat is the day I get stuck outside in the rain! The one. Day!"

"It could be worse," Kate says.

"Please explain, woman who is wearing a coat!"

"Well, you're wearing a black shirt," Kate explains. "You could be wearing a white one."

"Yes, okay. You're right," I say resignedly.

Some random says this: "Looks like we're going to be out here for a while yet."

"Okay..." I say calmly. "Okay… I'm gonna _fricking freeze_ to death out here!!"

"And she's turning into Pissedoff Reid!" Kate says. "She's even using 'frick'!"

"You are enjoying this _waaaay_ too much!" God, I _am_ pissed off.

"Take my coat," Michael says, removing a semi-padded black jacket.

"What?" I ask.

"Take the jumper. You're obviously freezing."

I look at him curiously. "Are you sure? Won't you freeze?"

"Yeah. You clearly need it more than me. And I have my black sweater as well anyway."

I smile and put the coat on. "Thanks." God, I feel warmer already.

Why the hell is Kate smirking?

"Hey, what's with you?" I ask.

Kate's smirk falters, but she's clearly trying not to laugh. "Oh. Nothing."

Okay…

* * *

So, I'm in a bit of a panic. Despite the amount of planning and favour-owning I did to make sure I had Elliot's birthday off, I've still ended up working on her birthday. _Stupid Mickhead._

This really sucks. The one thing Elliot asked to do on her birthday was – and I quote - 'to hang out, if the weather's nice maybe have lunch in the park and later on a night just watch some DVDs'. And now, if I'm stuck in this stupid place, I've basically done nothing for Elliot for her birthday. I'm screwed.

I'm heading in to the cafeteria. There's always someone to talk to there. Oh good, there's Carla.

"What's up, Bambi?" she says.

"I need your help."

She sighs. "Again?"

"Yep."

"What wrong this time, JD?"

"I'm working on Elliot's birthday."

"Okay. That's quite crappy, but that's not so bad."

"I promised her I'd be off."

"Well, that's a bit worse," Carla says. "But it's not a catastrophe. Elliot's reasonable, she understands how it works around here."

"You see… the thing is… that was the main thing she wanted, for us to just be together, without anything fancy happening. That's all."

Carla nods. "Now you're slightly more screwed." She stays quiet for a few seconds. "Okay, this could be recoverable. Can you swap shifts with someone?"

"Nope. Kelso's banned it. And the only person I would have a chance of swapping with would be Elliot."

"And that would just be completely defeating the purpose," Carla says knowingly.

I speak quietly for some reason. "I do have an idea or two about making this work, but I'm not sure if I could pull it off between today and tomorrow. I'm gonna need your help."

"Okay…" Carla says nervously.

"Where's the nearest computer?"

* * *

**AN:** Okay. I'm not a fan of this chapter. It's one of those ones that needs to be there to set up for the next couple of chapters, but nothing particularly interesting happens in it. I'm sorry. Feel free to tell me it suck, but I'm hoping the next few chapters will make up for it.

Oh, and if you haven't already, you must, must, **_must _**read the epilogue of My Shrink's Theory by Q-08. It's so good!

Thanks for reading! :)


	12. My Preparation

Ugh, I stink like wet dog. I hate the rain. Not to mention my hair – which was really quite straight this morning – has gone really curly. And frizzy. Not fun. The rain hasn't stopped all day, but at least I'm home now. Smiley face.

Huh. The door's unlocked. I thought it should have been locked. Maybe someone's home already.

JD and Carla are sitting at the table, studying the laptop screen closely and they're chattering about something in very hushed tones. They don't seem to have noticed that I'm here. I walk quietly towards them. Even when I'm standing right behind them, they don't notice me.

"Uh… hey, guys!"

They both seem to jump in fright. Someone shuts off the screen to the laptop swiftly. And they both have panicked looks on their faces. That was weird.

"Okay," I say sarcastically. "Are you two all right?"

"Jeez, we thought you were Elliot," Carla says. I think she's still a bit shocked.

"Nope, I'm not Elliot," I shake my head. "Why would that matter anyway?"

The insane chattering.

The intense concentration on the laptop.

The sudden shutting down of the laptop.

"Oh my god, you two are up to something!" I said that _way_ too loudly.

JD looks around nervously. "No we're not."

"Oh, you so _are_! And if you don't tell me I'm gonna…. I'm gonna test out my grandfather's truth glare trick." Okay, Alyssa, work the evil eye.

It could be working because JD has turned to look at Carla.

"Tell her," Carla says surely. "You're gonna need her help, anyway."

"Need my help with what?" I ask curiously.

"If we tell you," JD says, "you have to promise that this won't get back to Elliot."

"Okay, I promise." This is a little bit scary.

JD nods. "Here's the deal…"

* * *

I hate this. I promised Elliot I would be off work for her birthday, and somehow I end up working. Damn Mickhead. What makes it worse is Elliot's birthday is tomorrow and I still haven't told her.

"OW!" Carla just scudded me across the head. "What was that for?"

"You still haven't told Elliot yet!" she says as she files a chart. We're at the nurses' station, by the way.

"Wait. How did you know I haven't told her yet. Are you in my head?"

She's looking at me like I'm crazy. "Of course I'm not in your head. I'm only in Turk's."

I _knew_ it!

"No, Elliot just asked me where the best place to would be so she doesn't get bitten by grass-spiders. That may have been my first clue that she didn't know."

Sigh.

"And just a warning for you: She's about to find out."

"Say what?"

Carla shoots a look in my direction. It's a mix of sympathy and disbelief at my stupidity. "She's just gone to check the work schedule."

"Dammit. How long do you think it will take her to kill me?"

Laughing just slightly, Carla shakes her head. "She's not going to kill you. JD, I think you're making a much bigger deal out of this that you need to be."

"I feel like I'm letting her down though."

"You're not," Carla says. I think she's trying to be reassuring. "People's shifts get changed all the time; that's just the way the hospital works. Sometimes it happens at a bitch of a time."

"Yeah. I guess you're right," I say solemnly. I hate it when she's right.

"And besides," Carla says ever so slightly mischievously, "you have a plan, right?" That was more of a rhetorical question.

"Right," I nod.

Carla glances past me. "Heads up," she says quietly.

I turn around and see Elliot walking towards me. She looks disappointed, but not angry like I kinda expected her to be. Which is good.

"JD," she says calmly. "The schedule-"

"I'm really sorry," I say, interrupting Elliot before she says anything else.

She laughs. "Don't be. You got stuck covering a shift, it's not your fault."

"Wait, you're not pissed off?" I ask incredulously.

"No," she says smiling. "Why would I be? I'm disappointed, but not annoyed. I know you'd be off if you could."

Thanks God, Elliot's being so cool about this. I hug her. "This… this is why I love you."

She shakes her head. "That's not why you love me."

"No it's not."

Elliot stands on her tiptoes just slightly and she kisses me. I, of course, kiss her back. Our moment, however, is short-lived by someone giving an overly loud, exaggerated fake cough, which causes us both to turn around and see who it is.

"Would you two get a room!" Dr Cox snarls. "People are already sick here."

Elliot and I both roll our eyes as Dr Cox walks past us.

I turn to look at Elliot again. "So you're really fine with the whole shift switching, me not being off on your birthday thing?"

She shrugs. "Yeah. I mean, there's always next year."

I am not at all scared by that comment. Not at all. Actually it makes me happy, optimistic, excited.

"Yeah. And we could do something to celebrate next time we're both off, once your parents are away."

Elliot smiles. "I'd like that."

"So what do you think you'll do tomorrow?"

Elliot sighs. "I'm not sure. Probably go for lunch with my parents; not listen to them while they bicker and my mom takes shots at my hair, my clothes, my weight, what I eat at the restaurant."

"Now I feel even worse," I mutter.

Elliot puts her hand over her mouth. "Oh my god, that honestly wasn't the intention. I'm sorry."

"I know," I say smiling.

Elliot's pager beeps. "Damn," she mumbles quietly. "I gotta go. See you at lunch?"

"Yep."

Just before Elliot walks off, she kisses my cheek.

I walk towards Carla, who has a little smile on her face.

"See. I told you you had nothing to worry about," she says gleefully

"Yeah," I say. "I'm now gonna need all the help I can get."

* * *

How the hell do I get myself sucked into these crazy plans? Instead of 'studying' during my study (fake cough skive fake cough) period, I'm in one of the computer labs using the Internet to search for wine tours that my grandparents can go on tomorrow night while JD takes my aunt out for dinner. That's my task for today.

The door to this empty computer lab opens. "Oh, hey," I say to Kate and Michael. "How's it going?"

"Not too bad," Michael says. "I'm just going to go and buy us lunch. What do you want?"

Let me tell you this: school lunches suck. Seriously. The cheese paninis taste like cardboard and ear wax. Yuck. Never _ever_ eat the food of St Catherine's High School. It is quite possible the worst crap you'll ever taste in your life. That's why every lunchtime we take it in turns to walk a little bit into town and buy some decent food. Today, it's Michael's turn.

"Um…." What do I want for lunch? "You know what, just get me something from wherever you go. Surprise me," I answer.

"Cool."

I back around to my computer. Kate and Michael keep talking for a moment or two. I don't know what they're talking about though; I'm barely listening. I think I heard something about a chicken salad though.

Have you ever noticed how the internet is full of crap sometimes? I typed into the search engine 'wine tasting events California' and I get results for arable farms in Wales. Don't ask me where the connection is, because I don't know.

"Hey, what you looking up?"

I jump just a little in fright. "Jeez, don't sneak up on my like that!"

"Sorry," she says contritely. "So what are you looking up?"

"Vineyard tours for tomorrow night."

"Why… just _why?"_

Shaking my head, I say, "Don't ask."

"Too late, I already did," Kate replies sardonically. After a brief pause she says, "Five bucks says Michael brings you a BLT wrap with honey mustard dressing from McClaren's."

What? "Are you seriously trying to bet me what I'll have for my lunch? Dude, I know you're trying to raise money for a new iPod, but I'm not going to bet you what I'm going to have for my lunch."

"I actually hadn't thought of the money," Kate mutters quietly.

"Okay…freak," I joke. "What's your point anyway?"

"I'm just saying…. Five bucks says he brings you back a BLT wrap from McClaren's."

This is really weird. "Again, what?"

"Yesterday at break you were talking about wanting that BLT wrap that you had when we were out shopping on Saturday. Later on he asked me where you got that wrap," she says in an almost 'told-you-so' tone. "And he was very insistent on finding out where you got that wrap."

"I'm still failing to see your point." And I'm failing to know what Kate has been smoking.

"He's going to deliberately going to go to McClaren's to get you a BLT wrap."

"What's the big deal?" I ask. "There's a McClaren's just around the corner."

"No big deal," she says. I don't believe her, because she's got a right smirk on her face.

"Okay," I turn back around to my computer.

"He likes you," she says quietly, but sing-song-ily.

"I'm sorry, _what?" _

"He likes you," she repeats, but this time it's more matter-of-factly. "He does. And I think you like him."

"Yes, Kate," I say. "It's called _friendship_. You're aware of the concept, right?"

She scoffs. "Friendship. Yeah right."

"Seriously."

"Okay. Hey, how come you said before that he's the only one you'd trust enough to tell anything to?"

My god, Kate. "He's my best friend. What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, you're just _very _close, that's all."

"You and I are close," I say quietly.

"We're not as close as you and Michael are," she replies. "You two hang out together more often that you don't."

I shrug. "We're just really good friends, that's all."

"Okay. Whatever you say," Kate mutters. "By the way… uh… about the bet?"

"Fine, it's on."

She's crazy sometimes. So is the Internet. It's still giving me random results.

"Hey, you know how it's Halloween in three weeks?" I ask Kate.

"Yeah?"

Me: "And there's the fancy dress charity thing at the hospital?"

Kate: "Yeah?"

Me: "Who's making the posters to advertise for that?"

Kate blinks, and her face remains blank. Then she sits down and switches on another computer. "That'll be me then. What are you wearing for the Halloween fancy dress hospital fund raising, by the way?" Kate asks.

I shake my head. "I have _no _idea. I couldn't think of anything original. What about you?"

"I'm not sure," she answers. "Maybe there should be some sort of theme?"

"Yeah maybe. What could we all dress up as?"

"Oh!" Kate says emphatically. "We could all dress up as other doctors of the hospital. It could be like a parody."

"I don't think that would work. We'd be too tempted to mock them all waaaaaaay too much, and that would not go down well. I mean, we'd be lucky if we got out of there alive."

"True," Kate mumbles. "We can all decide later."

"Yeah."

The room goes quiet apart from the clicking sound from Kate's typing. I think I'm eventually getting somewhere with this wine hunt. I'm actually getting results from this state.

The door opens.

"Hey Michael," Kate says. "That was quick."

"Yeah, I went to McClaren's round the corner."

"Oh, that place is good," I say, completely ignoring the slight 'told-you-so' look that Kate has on her face.

Kate laughs slightly and tries to act normal. "So what did you bring us then?"

"For Kate: A chicken salad. And for Lys, a BLT wrap."

Kate kicks me under the table and has a massive smirk on her face. Ignoring completely.

"Hey, Lys," Kate says. Apparently that nickname's spreading. "You know that five bucks you owe me?"

I sigh resignedly. "Yeah?"

"Pay me in the morning."

"Okay," I laugh.

Michael looks between the two of us curiously. "How did you owe Kate money?"

Kate tries to stifle laughter as I answer, "That is a long story."

* * *

"Hey, Bambi!" Carla says as I walk by the nurses' station. "How's the plan preparation going?"

I shake my head. "It's not," I say quietly. "Patients keep interrupting the planning."

Carla tilts her head to the side in her 'I'm-about-to-teach-you-some-moral-lesson' way. "Well, that's a little insensitive."

"I know," I say, while Carla sits down at the computer. "I have three hours to get everything sorted out for tomorrow. I'm _screwed_."

"God, when it comes to anything to do with Elliot, you're so melodramatic!" Carla says. I think I'm pissing her off. "Look," she continues, "Worst case scenario, your plan doesn't go according…to… plan." Carla pauses for a second or two. "Anyway, you know that everything hasn't gone as you wanted it to, but Elliot won't know that."

"I guess you're right," I mumble grudgingly. "I only have three hours to get everything in place, and phase one isn't even completed."

Carla smiles broadly. "Yes it is." She gestures for me to look at the computer screen. She's on some sort of link for a…

"Wine tour, yes!"

Carla nods. "Alyssa sent me it in an email. All you need to do is book and pay for it and phase one is complete."

"Awesome. Remind me to thank her later," I say as type into the website.

"Will do," Carla mumbles.

"And could you page Turk for me?"

Carla nods.

* * *

I love getting out of school early. Really. A class cancellation because the teacher is ill is the greatest pick-me-up ever, especially when one of your friends (Michael) is stuck in class. Kate and I just had to send him a text message to rub it in his face. Mean, yes. But he knows we're just messing around, so it's cool. And it's not like Kate and I are going to be sitting about doing nothing. We've gone to the hospital to use the computers to make posters for the Halloween fancy dress fundraiser. Oh, and we've managed to find some way of putting the Sacred Heart Hospital logo on to the posters and we're printing off a batch now.

"This printer is so slow," I mumble. "I wonder how old this thing is."

"To be fair," Kate says, "We are using like… six litres of ink between all of these."

"True."

The door opens. It's Dr Kelso and he looks slightly annoyed. "I'm sorry. I don't remember requesting any volunteers in today and I certainly do not remember telling them they could use all of the hospital's ink."

"Well," I say. "Since we're using these posters to organise a fancy dress fundraiser – which you challenged us to – we were hoping that you would let us off with using some – a lot- of the ink because we're going to raise lots of money for the hospital." I hope that made sense.

Kate chimes in. "And we'll even replace the ink."

Dr Kelso looks as if he has something to say. Then he sighs resignedly. "Fine," he grudgingly says before walking out of the room.

"Dude, how the hell are we going to be able to afford to replace all this ink?!"

"_Relax_," Kate answers casually. "My dad runs his own office supplies company."

"Lifesaver!" I say enthusiastically.

The printer stops running. There's now a pile of thirty-ish posters.

"You want me to go and pin up these posters while you print some more posters?" I ask Kate. "Or do you want to tack up the posters and I print?"

"No, it's cool," Kate says. "Just you stick them up."

"Okay. See ya later," I say as I walk out of the room.

Hmm… I wonder where I'll start putting these posters up. Maybe at the ground floor waiting room. Or what about the third floor doctors' lounge? You know what, I'll head down to the ground floor then work my way back upstairs. _And_ I'm going in the opposite direction of the elevators. About turn.

Turk's walking towards me. "Hey Alyssa," he says quickly. "I need to ask for help on something, but I need to know if you know about _the deal."_

I'm confused. "The deal?" I ask tentatively.

"_The deal,_" Turk repeats.

The deal. What's the deal? Wait a second. "_The deal," _I say knowingly. "Yeah, the deal's been sorted."

Turk looks at me confusedly. "It has?"

"Yeah. It got sorted this afternoon."

"What distraction did you organise for your grandparents for during the day?"

"They're going on… wait, during the day? I thought the deal was organise a distraction for at night while JD had a surprise thing for Elliot."

"I thought the deal was to organise a distraction for during the day while JD had a surprise thing for Elliot," Turk says. "Do you know what the surprise is?"

"No," I answer quietly. "Do you?"

Turk shakes his head. "No. Well, this just got interesting."

"And not at all confusing," I say sarcastically.

"Perplexity aside," Turk continues, "I still need to arrange something for your grandparents."

"Well, they'll already be spending all evening together, so it's a probably not a good idea to have them spending any more time together," I explain. What could be arranged… Oh! "My granddad likes to play golf. Does that help?"

"It does a little," Turk says. "And what about your grandmother?"

"She doesn't really like anything other than drinking, but I don't think it would be a good idea to send an already drunk person to a wine tasting event."

"Probably not."

"Oh, and she likes to hit on married men and pool boys, but I don't think that helps us much here either."

"Actually…" Turk trails off and points down the corridor to where Janitor is mopping.

I look round at Turk. "Oh, we can't do that. That's just too nasty. We can't do that to Janitor. Can we? Can't we just put her back to flirt with the guy in the liquor store? I think I just answered my own question in my own head." I sigh. " We can't make Janitor do that can we? Janitor wouldn't put himself through that again, would he?"

"As much as it pains me to say this, I think he would, especially if we unleash the secret weapon."

"What the _hell_ is the secret weapon?"

Turk slyly smirks at me. "A secret."

"Oh that's just_ nasty_," I snarl.

We walk towards Janitor, who is blissfully unaware of what's about to be asked of him. I feel bad about this. Anyway. Here goes.

"Um… Janitor? Can we please ask you a favour?" I say nervously "Could you please help us…" I glance down at the paper in my hand. "Help us pin up these posters."

Turk hits my arm, but not too powerfully. "Janitor, do you remember Lily Reid?"

Janitor looks confused. "Who?"

"Older woman," Turk describes. "Bleached blonde hair."

I pipe up. "My grandmother."

Janitor's eyes go wide. "Her… she's the scary woman."

"Yes, her," I say sheepishly. "Um… we were wondering if you would mind if she hung out with you tomorrow?"

Janitor's face stays blank.

"I don't think this is going well," I quietly say to Turk.

He continues from where I left off. "Yeah, she needs something to do tomorrow –"

I wonder if Turk will realise how bad a word choice that was.

"- And we were hoping, since you got on_ so well_ last time, that you wouldn't mind her hanging with you tomorrow."

"That woman… had her hands…. On my _ass."_

I know she did. The image is embedded in my memory. "Yeah, but that's only because she _really_ liked you," I say. I think I can feel my soul burning. "Here's the deal," I say to Janitor. "It's Elliot's birthday tomorrow –"

Janitor cuts me off mid-speech. "Who's Elliot?"

"Blonde Doctor," Turk answers.

Janitor nods. "Right."

"Yeah, anyway," I go on. "It's Blonde Doctor's birthday, and for some reason that's sort of ambiguous to us, we need to create a distraction for her mother and we would like to ask you if you'd be that distraction."

The janitor looks reluctant and hesitant. "I don't know…"

"We wouldn't ask you, but we don't have many other options that ensure she remains as sober as possible," I say. I'm guessing that I'm saying to pretty unconvincingly. I feel so bad doing this.

Janitor is silent, but I can almost see the wheels ticking round in his head. I've used that phrase God only knows how many times, but it's so stupid. How can _wheels_ turn around in a person's head? There aren't wheels in a person's head.

Janitor still hasn't answered.

"Please?" I say quietly in some attempt to coax him into answering.

"For Blonde Doctor?" Turk says.

Janitor bobs his head from side to side as if he is considering it. "Okay," he eventually says. "For Blonde Doctor."

Turk nods. "You're a good man."

"Thank you," I add.

Dr Kelso walks round the corner. He gets about the hospital quickly. "Lurch," he says sternly.

Lurch?

Janitor turns around to face Kelso. "Yes, sir?"

Ah. Okay.

"A small urchin vomited spinach downstairs and I would like you to clean it up," Kelso says.

Janitor takes a few steps towards Kelso, and then leans in the wooden end of his mop. "What's in it for me?"

Kelso rummages in his pockets. He pulls out a twenty-dollar bill and holds it in front of Janitor's face.

"Deal," Janitor says as he takes the money. He then goes off down the corridor.

Kelso turns his head to glare at Turk and me. "Don't you people have work to do?"

Turk answers. "Yes, sir. Yes we do." He pulls on my arm so we walk in the opposite direction. "There," he says once we're a bit further up the corridor. "Our work is done."

"Where exactly was the secret weapon in that?" I ask.

Turk looks at me like I'm stupid. "When I said 'For Blonde Doctor'."

"_That _was the secret weapon? Seriously?"

"Yup. There's a whole backstory to that."

"Really?"

Turk nods. "Oh, yeah."

"I'm not sure I want to hear it." I sigh. "Why do I feel like we just pimped out the Janitor?"

"Um, because we kinda did," Turk says.

"Right, right."

* * *

"Thank you. Thank you very much." I hang up the phone. "Yo, Carla!"

"Whaaat is it Bambi?" My good friend asks as she rounds the corner.

"Have you ever noticed how nice people are on the phone?"

Carla precariously drops a whole load of charts on the table and sighs in irritation. "Well, considering since the last conversation was with a spoilt ER intern whom I winded up calling _puta madre_, I'd have to say 'no'," she wryly says. "Oh, and Elliot has just had a run in with the same ER doc; she is _not_ in a good mood in any way, shape or form. Be warned."

I cringe. "How much of do you think she'll leave of me when I tell her that I'm '_working late tonight'_?" Add hand gestures to emphasise my exaggeration of the truth.

Carla is looking down at something so she doesn't notice the hand gestures. "You're not working late tonight," she says absently. She's concentrating more on what she's writing than what she's saying. She stops writing, and she look up – but not completely up – from the chart. "Wait a second," she mumbles quietly. "You're _not_ working late tonight." A few moments of thinking. Gasp. "_Bambi!"_

I pretend to act oblivious. "What?"

"You're _lying _to your girlfriend!"

"Relax," I say nonchalantly. "Trust me, she'll thank me tomorrow."

Carla rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "So what's the progress report on your grand plan then?"

Ignoring the blatant sarcasm. "Oh, it's going good. It's really picking up momentum," I say. "Actually, there's only one more thing to sort out. And I need your help with it."

"There's another thing? One more?"

"Yup. One more. You're off in a few minutes, right?"

Carla nods. "This one thing. What is it?"

* * *

That's it. Once Carla and I step over the threshold of this shop, the plan preparation is complete. Aaaand, _now_ it's complete.

Carla shakes her head in a weird form of disbelief. "I swear, JD. If you pull this whole thing off, then…" Carla trails off.

"Oh, I'm gonna pull it off," I say. "Trust me, it's gonna work."

Carla rolls her eyes. "Sweet mother of mercy…"

* * *

**AN: So this isn't my favourite chapter of them all, but I wanted to post something before I go away next Sunday. This will be the last update for a good few weeks, because I'm out of the country a while. I'm in Spain for a week, back for about four days, then in the US for a fortnight. I will try to get something posted in between Spain and USA, but I'm not promising. I will be back though. :D Please don't give up on me. :) Thanks for the reviews for the previous chapter! :D Let me know what you think of this one. :)**


	13. My Plan In Action

**AN: I'm back for my holidays. Thanks for everyone who reviewed the last couple of chapters, and thanks for sticking with this story. Hope you like this chapter, and please let me know what you think. :) **

It's been a weird couple of days to say the least. That's mostly because of this bizarre scheme JD is setting up. None of us (none of us being me and Turk… so I guess that would be neither of us) have any clue what's going on. JD asks us to help him with his plan; he asks us to create all these distractions, but he doesn't tell us why. How screwed up is that? Carla knows what's going on, I'm sure she does. But she's not gossiping this time.

Oh, and JD also asked if I could create a distraction for myself (A.KA. make myself scarce) for during the evening. Now that, as well as the wine tour distraction for my grandparents, I can understand why. Well, you know. But during the day? All day? No chance. And besides, I thought the whole point of this conspiracy was because JD was working on my Aunt Elliot's birthday (which is today). And my own brain has just disturbed me. I should not have considered that logic in my head. Not good.

School is closed today. Something about an in-service day. Don't ask me what it's all about. I think it's just an excuse for the teachers to get rid of us so they can eat scones and drink tea and blether all day. Not that I'm complaining. Any excuse for a day off school, right? But, like yesterday when the last class of the day was cancelled, I'm not going to be sitting on my ass doing nothing. Since Halloween is just over a fortnight away, and we have no idea what to dress up as for a fancy dress fundraiser that we are organising, we've decided that now is the time to start panicking. Yup. We're not the most organised bunch of people. The group that are organising the 'sponsored lyrical conversation challenge' (sweet Sesame Street, I don't know what gave them that idea) were handing out the sponsor forms on the afternoon that we were given the challenge (which apparently was only nine days ago. Time flies by doesn't it; it seems like much longer since we were sitting in that conference room barely listening.) That group seems to be raising a lot of money. Somehow they've also managed to rope Kate, Michael and me into participating. That's going to end well.

It's 9.20am now. I'm supposed to be meeting Kate, Michael and a few others in town at ten. I'm pretty much ready to go now. See, silly me forgot that school was closed today and silly me forgot to turn off her alarm so silly me got up, showered and dress (not all at the same time, of course) at 6am like she normally does on a school morning. So I've been ready for… oh, an hour and a half. It's been fun though. I listened to some music, sent some email… to myself, admittedly, but it was fun to see what I said. In case you hadn't guessed, it wasn't fun and I was lying.

My aunt's bedroom door opens and she walks into the living room. "Morning," she says cheerily.

"Morning," I reply. "Happy birthday!"

My aunt smiles. "Thank you." Elliot scrunches her eyebrows. "Wait, shouldn't you be at school?"

"Nope," I say, shaking my head. "In-service day. But don't worry, I made the same mistake, hence the dishes that were in the sink last night being clean."

Elliot glances to the kitchen sink. "Thanks." She then looks round the room. "Where are the parents?"

"Well. Granddad is out playing golf with Dr Kelso." Don't ask me how Turk managed to sort that one out. "And Grandma… I'm actually not sure where she is." I really don't, but I'd guess that she'll be in a bar, some random guy's house, or (and I'm kinda rooting for this option) she's found her way to the Janitor by now.

"My dad's playing golf with Kelso?" Aunt Elliot asks incredulously.

"Yeah," I answer. "And they've been gone a while, so they've probably killed each other by now."

Elliot shakes her head. "I would not want to be refereeing that match."

"Me neither." Pause. "Wait, they're playing golf. There are no referees."

"There aren't? Then how do they know who wins?"

"I think it has something to do with whoever has the lowest score," I answer.

"That's weird. And backwards."

"So," I say. "How does it feel to be thirty?"

My aunt sarcastically glares at me. "Shut up," she says jokingly.

"What?" I sat in a similar sarcastic tone. "I was just asking curiously."

"So you weren't trying to make fun of me?"

I nod. "Well, yeah, okay. I was taking the piss ever so slightly, but it had to be done."

"Where did you get your bitchy side from?"

"I'm not sure," I say with fake uncertainty. "Maybe my aunt." We both laugh.

"Well played," my aunt says.

"I know."

My aunt mock-scowls at me. "You know, your birthday is soon. I will be getting my 'make fun' revenge."

"See, I'd be scared of that if I wasn't only turning seventeen. Thirty is much worse than seventeen."

Silence.

"So what are you doing today, then?" Aunt Elliot asks me, completely ignoring my sound logic.

"We're all going costume hunting at the mall," I answer.

"Coolio," my aunt smiles. "Do you know what you're going as yet?"

"Not a clue. We're trying to get some sort of theme, but we're not getting very far."

"You know, when I was thirteen I dressed up as a clown for Halloween. It was the Halloween after I went to Clown Academy."

"Clown Academy?" I ask.

"Don't ask. Anyway. I had all my clown make up on, and my wig and costume was fixed so I went trick-or-treating. Of course it was raining. Pouring, actually. My make up ran but that didn't stop me. I keep knocking on those doors and getting that candy until I got to Billy Dresden's door. Billy Dresden was like thirteen-year-olds' version of the perfect, yet unattainable guy. I kinda had a crush on Billy Dresden so I was really hoping he would answer the door. But what I didn't know was Billy had a little five-year-old brother. He answered the door, took one look at my clown make-up and screamed bloody murder. Another thing I didn't know was Billy had invited all of his popular jock-type friends over. They saw Billy's little brother screaming at my now scary looking clown make-up and everybody called me 'It' or 'Pennywise' for two years."

"That was… helpful. Thanks Aunt Elliot."

"Anytime."

I look at my watch. Crap! It's 9.45. "I better go. I'm supposed to be meeting my friends in fifteen minutes."

"Would you like a lift to the mall?"

Actually, yes. I very much would like a lift to the mall considering the rain is pouring (damn October weather). But I'm guessing that would interfere with the 'master plan' (whatever the hell the master plan is) so I'm going have to say: "No. Thanks anyway. But I wouldn't mind borrowing an umbrella."

Elliot points to a black umbrella that's sitting on the table. "Take it."

"Thank you," I say happily. At least now, I won't get so wet. "By the way, is it cool if I stay at Kate's house tonight?" That would be me making myself scarce.

"Yeah, sure," my aunt says. "But no boys."

I sardonically scoff. "Chance would be a fine thing," I joke. "Before I forget, this came through the door for you."

I pick a cream coloured envelope from the table. I'm not sure when it was posted. Must have been before six, because I didn't notice it. That being said, I probably wouldn't have noticed much at 6am. There's no stamp on the envelope, so it must have been hand-posted by the sender. It's addressed to my aunt, but I don't recognise the handwriting. My aunt probably does.

"Okay. I gotta go. See you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" My aunt asks, not looking up from the envelope. "Won't you be back later to pick up your stuff for staying at Kate's?"

Oh, crap. Clearly I haven't thought this plan through. If I return at the wrong time… well that could be (cue sing song voice) awkward! And, as well as that, if I don't answer I could maybe give it away that there is some big ambiguous plan. Okay. I'm just going to answer as if I made a mistake.

"Did I say tomorrow? I meant later, sorry."

"No worries. See you later then."

Yeah," I say. "Bye." I close the door behind me.

Okay. So, costume finding.

* * *

I'm nervous. Not nervous as in scared, but nervous as in excited. My plan should be getting into full swing. I look at the clock, which gives me my confirmation. Yeah, it's nearly ten thirty. On her days off, Elliot normally gets up around 8.30. She's not really one for having a lie in. Then she'll go for a shower, which normally lasts about twenty minutes, which takes us to 8.50. Then the forty-five minutes for hair drying/styling. That takes us to 9.35. Then the ten minutes for choosing and outfit and dressing, 9.45. Ten minutes for breakfast, 9.55. Ten minutes for teeth-brushing, 10.05. Twenty minutes for make-up, which takes us to 10.25, which is when Elliot checks her mail. I don't know if being able to remember Elliot's routine makes me slightly psycho, but I notice these things. Right now, she should be reading the card.

Now, if I'm being honest, the card isn't all that exciting. It doesn't say anything particularly riveting, although it does tell her what to do when her door buzzer goes.

The workload thus far hasn't been remarkably heavy, which is good for me (and the patients) because my head is in two different places. I'm just so anxious for everything to go right today.

"Hey dude," Turk says, walking up to me from behind and slapping his hands on my shoulders. "How's it going?"

"It… it's…" Finding the right word… "Nerveracking."

"Oh, right," Turk says with realization. "It's Elliot's birthday today. And it's your oddly vague plan day."

"That's correct," I say.

Turk shakes his head in his weird disbelieving way. "Dude," he mutters incredulously. "So in plan, what's happening now?"

Tilt head to the side and look upwards.

_Elliot will be opening the card. She'll sit down on her sofa and carefully tear the lip of the envelope so she doesn't rip it totally. That's a habit she's picked up after accidentally opening letters that weren't for her and not being able to read the return address. Elliot will casually sip at her cup of coffee at she reads the words:  
_  
'Hey. Happy thirtieth birthday. I'm really sorry I can't be with you today, but trust me, I'll be thinking about you all day. :) And just think, while you're spending the day relaxing (at this point, she'll scoff and laugh and think 'fat chance of that happening'), Dr Cox will be calling me girls' names, Kelso will be breaking Ted's spirit and patients will be doing their best to make our work days a living hell. Enjoy that though while you're sipping on chilled glass of red wine that you'll debate with yourself about having. Yes, I do know you too well. Have fun today. I'll see you soon. x.

P.S: When your apartment buzzer goes, just listen to what the person says. Don't be scared. Oh, and don't ask questions. That's the whole point of the surprise. :)

_Elliot will lower her eyebrows. She'll read over the note again, and she'll look up with a perplexed expression on her face. She'll glance at the note again before laying it on the table and go about her routine of finding her iPod (because she never goes anywhere without it) and her cell phone and her make up._

_She'll be in the process of putting everything in to her purse when her buzzer will… well, buzz. She'll freeze for a moment, looking at the buzzer phone like it will do a funky trick. She'll then put the things in her hand haphazardly down on the table and walk nervously towards the buzzer phone._

_"Hello?" Elliot will ask hesitantly._

_The voice on the other end will reply, "Taxi for Elliot Reid?"_

_Elliot won't answer for a moment or two. She'll look back to the note that's still sitting on her coffee table. She'll try to recite it in her head. "Yeah, I'll be down in a minute," she'll say unsurely._

_She'll hang up the answer phone and make her way back to her bag. She'll precariously throw the items that she lay down earlier (most likely her mascara, her phone and maybe even a little bottle of perfume that she'd be lost without) into her bag. She'll lift the bag on to her left shoulder and then step into the little black heels that are still sitting at the side of the coffee table from when she took them off last night after work. She'll glance down to the note, and then put it into her bag. She'll pick up her keys and walk out of her front door._

_As she locks her door, Elliot will think that this whole thing is surreal. She'll wonder what the frick is going on. She'll climb down the stairwell of her building and halt suddenly when she reaches the ground floor and notices the pouring rain. Elliot will probably glance down at her feet and wish she hadn't worn those shoes. She'll notice the cab sitting right outside the door and decide that she won't get that wet if she runs to the cab. And that's what she'll do. She'll run as hurriedly as the heels will let her without breaking an ankle._

_Elliot will notice that the cab's window is lowered. "Taxi for Reid?"_

_The cab driver will nod, so Elliot will get into the cab._

_As the cab drives off, she'll wonder where she's going._

Lower eyes and un-tilt the head.

"Nothing much," I answer. And look down at my feet as we walk along the corridor.

Turk looks at me curiously. "I know that look," he says, his voice quiet. "I know that look; you're lying! There is stuff happening!" Turk claps his hands together in that way that he does when he thinks he's stumbled across some fascinatingly interesting gossip.

"Yeah, there is, but I'm not telling you what's happening."

Turk puts his wounded facial expression on. "Why not?"

"You'll just laugh."

"Dude, when would I ever laugh?"

"First week of college…"

_**JD rushes into the college dorm room, eager to speak to his new roommate and his will-be-in-a-few-weeks new friend, Chris Turk. Once he reaches his door he storm through it.**_

_**Turk is sitting on his bed, spinning a basketball on his finger. When the door opens he takes one look at JD, who is fully clad in motorcycle clothes, and raises and eyebrow. "Okay," Turk says, incredulous of his dorky roommates appearance. "What up?" Turk asks in a more regular tone.**_

"_**I had an epiphany today!" JD says excitedly, jumping up and down slightly. **_

_**Turk rolls his eyes, but continues to spin the orange basketball on his finger. "What was is this time?" he asks, guessing it has something to do with JD's oh-so-hideous outfit.**_

"_**I'm going to be a professional motorbike daredevil!" JD grins.**_

_**Turk catches his basketball in his hands and stares silently at JD for a few seconds, before crumbling into a fit of laughter.**_  
**  
**Turk nods. "Yeah. Okay. In my defence that plan was incredibly stupid."

"You still laughed," I say.

"Only because that was so unbelievably brainless," Turk says. "If you don't make your plots so stupid, then I won't laugh."

"Well, if you don't laugh then maybe I might tell you about the plans!"

Turk raises his eyebrows. "O…kay," he says sarcastically.

"Yeah. Forgive me; I'm all over the place today."

"No kidding."

* * *

Why don't people go Halloween costume shopping more often? Honestly. This is so much fun. It's basically an excuse to dress people up in wacky outfits and laugh at each other. It's so good.

_Digital camera: 100.  
Makeup and Outfits: 120 split six ways.  
Pictures of the guys dressed in drag_: Priceless!

In fits of laughter, just like everyone else, Kate sits down on the floor beside where I'm sitting. Yes, we're sitting on the floor of shop in the mall.

"I'm so glad I brought my camera with me," Kate says through laughter.

Michael peers his head round the wall of the changing room entrance. "Are you laughing at us?"

Kate and I look at each other in that 'we're so going to lie' way.

"No," I say, and I try to say it confidently. I think it worked.

Michael looks away from me and to Kate. "Are you sure?" And it's good to see that the truth glare thing is catching.

Kate looks down at the ground sheepishly. "Well… no, not exactly."

"Kate!" I whine.

"I'm sorry, but that look scares me!" Kate says quietly. "And technically," she adds with extra sternness, "we weren't laughing at you. We were laughing at the pictures."

Michael steps out from behind the wall reveal his outfit fully. He's wearing a black mini skirt, a red low cut top and red kitten heels. And, of course, Kate and I start laughing again.

"Hey!" Michael protests. "I will kick your asses, you know!"

"Not dressed like that you won't!" I retort.

Michael scowls at me and I fake-menacingly stick my tongue out at him.

Kate sort of fake coughs. "By the way, where's David?"

David is one of the other volunteers. We don't hang out with him as much. He goes to a different school than Kate, Michael and me so we don't see each other so often.

Michael looks down at the ground. "Yeah…. He kinda got in a tangle with his tights."

This sends Kate and I into hysterics.

"Hey, be nice to me!" David says, peering his head round the corner.

"Oh sweet mother," Kate says incredulously, taking in David's appearance.

I raise an eyebrow. "How the hell," I say dramatically, "did you manage to get your head in the leg of the tights?"

"I don't know!"

"Wait a second," Kate mumbles absently as she hunts in her bag for something. "Hold still," she tells the guys as she quickly takes her camera out of her bag and snaps a quick picture. "Excellent," she glees.

"Nice one," I murmur happily, glancing at the LCD screen of Kate's camera.

"You're going to put that on your myspace page, aren't you?" David asks Kate seriously.

"I would," she answers sarcastically. "But, luckily for you, I don't have myspace."

"You know," I say to David. "You should really take those off of your head before you suffocate to death."

David looks towards us pleadingly. "Help me." He frowns.

Michael looks to David. He then raises his hand and yanks the tights off of Dave's head. This causes Dave to scream… well, to be honest, like a little girl.

"There you go," Michael says, handing him the tights.

David glares at him. "That hurt, you son of a…"

"Sorry."

"Uh, guys," Kate says nervously, looking over her shoulder. "Maybe you should get changed, because that woman down there is starting to give us the evil eye." She gestures to an older woman, whose hair is pulled back tightly into a bun. She's wearing a suit, and she kind of looks like one of those people who takes way too much pride in her work. And she is indeed, giving us the evil eye.

As Michael and David both hurry back into the changing rooms to de-girl themselves, I speak to Kate. "You have got to send me those photos. I _so_ wish I'd brought my camera with me."

"Why didn't you?" Kate asks.

"Well, it's kinda still sitting in a drawer in my old room in Connecticut."

Kate looks suspicious. "You used to live in Connecticut until your parents dumped you with your aunt in California, right?"

"Yes."

"And am I right in remembering you said you had school textbooks and next to no clothes with you?"

"Yes."

"And yet you flew from Connecticut to California without giving it a thought that something was wrong?"

"… Yes," I say awkwardly.

"How dumb are you?"

You can always rely on a friend for sympathy, can't you? "Thanks," I say, and it's dripping with sarcasm. "Look, in my defence. My parents quite often went to medical conferences all over the place and sometimes they took me with them, sometimes they didn't. When my dad said we were going to California, I assumed they were taking me to sit in a hotel room while they were at a conference. Nobody told me any differently."

Kate looks at me sceptically. "You mean, you had no idea that you would be changing schools and states and be living with your aunt?"

"Nope, no idea."

"How is that even possible?"

"I'm here, aren't I?"

Kate nods. She glances at her watch. "How long does it take those guys to get changed?" She mutters.

"We've been here two hours and we're still no further forward in finding us all costumes," I state.

"I know. The hospital is going to be a freak show on Halloween. It'll be so much fun."

"Yeah," I say quietly. "So you're cool with me staying at your house tonight?"

"Sure." Kate says. "But remind me why?"

"I'm making myself scarce."

"What?"

"Don't ask."

At this point, the guys walk out of the changing room area. "Are you guys ready to get

something to eat?" David asks.

"Yeah," Kate answers. "I'm really hungry."

"Me too," I add. "But after lunch, we really need to get some real work done."

* * *

"Nurse Espinosa," Doctor Kelso says to me. "I need to look after Mr Summers in room 302. Apparently he has an aversion to one of the other nurses giving him a sponge bath."

"I'll get to it when I can," I mutter with frustration. Great. Another patient to look after. I love my job, but when there are three nurses off sick and a million patients that need checked on, it can be exasperating to say the least. There's barely enough time to think just now. Not to mention the phones just will. Not. Stop. Ringing. Speaking of which…

"Hello," I says as I pick up the phone. "Sacred Heart Hospital. Nurse Espinosa speaking. How can I help?"

"_Carla?"_

"Oh hey Elliot," I say. This phone call could go badly. "What's up? Happy birthday, by the way."

"_Thanks. Just out of curiosity,"_ Elliot says, "_you wouldn't happen to know of some big surprise JD was planning?"_

I don't support lying but: "Uh, no I don't. Why, what's happening?"

"You're not going to believe this."

I think I am.

"But I'm at this spa resort up state."

"Really?" Of course, I knew this, but I have to sound surprised.

"Yeah. Carla, it's amazing. I really can't remember the last time I was this relaxed."

"Sounds like you're having a good time," I say. Then I notice Kelso looking at me. "Listen, I better go. Kelso is giving me the evil eye."

"Okay. Speak to you later. Bye."

Just after I put the phone, I walk away down the corridor, ignoring Kelso's evil stare. And there's Turk.

"Hey baby," Turk says. "So seriously, what's with JD's plan thing? How good is it, really?"

I smirk. "Let's just say, if Bambi doesn't get lucky I will be very surprised."

"Baby, that was too much information."

"Sorry."

* * *

So, shopping for today is over. While we don't have any costumes, we're getting a bit further forward that we were before. After lunch, we actually did some serious looking around.

Kate and I are now climbing the stairs of my aunt's apartment building.

"So," I say, unlocking the front door. "While I quickly gather my stuff together, you keep watch for them returning."

Kate tilts her head to the side. "You realise that there is only one exit out of here? So even if they do return you're screwed."

"Well, the fire escape is in my room. Get out that way?"

Kate just shakes her head disbelievingly. "And why are you so uptight about being here if your aunt and her boyfriend return anyway?"

"Because I know things you don't."

"This is all very Mission Impossible," Kate mutters quietly as I walk to my room.

I scurry about around my room quickly. I don't have much to collect, just pyjamas, clothes for tomorrow, hygiene things and my toothbrush. I better remember to pick

that up from the bathroom.

"Uh, Alyssa," Kate says. She sounds nervous. "I don't want to alarm you, but…"

I hurry out of my room. "What, what, what?"

Kate shrugs. "Nothing," she says. "I just wanted to see your reaction."

"You can be a bitch sometimes. You know that, right?"

Kate nods, as I walk past her. "By the way, didn't you originally say that you couldn't go costume hunting today because you'd be – and these are your words, not mine – 'babysitting your grandparents'? Where are they?"

"Um…"

_In the hospital, Janitor walks along the corridors. His facial expression seems to be frozen with fear, and he's clutching to his mop for dear life. Following him is my grandmother, who is wearing something provocative. (Cough mutton dressed as lamb cough). Janitor stops abruptly as he notices a coffee stain on the floor. Janitor, God bless his heart, when he notices a stain he becomes oblivious to everything else that's going on around him. He's concentrating so strongly on the stain that he forgets my grandmother is standing right behind him. My grandmother does something provocative – for the sake of my own sanity I am not thinking what that would be – and Janitor's eyes go wide._

Kate's face contorts in disgust. "Ew!"

"I know! And I'm that woman's granddaughter! While most kids have old-fashioned grandmothers who knit them clothes, give them boiled candy and make them say the grace before the Sunday family dinner, I get _that."_

Kate nods. "Sucks to be you."

"Yup."

"If your grandma's at the hospital, where's you grandfather?"

_At the golf course, my granddad plays a shot. The ball goes straight down the fairway. Well, he spends most of his time on the golf course; he gets a lot of practice._

"_Excellent shot," Dr Kelso begrudgingly says. As he tees up to play his shot, he asks my grandfather: "So, you're also Chief of Medicine. Which hospital?" Kelso takes his back swing, but when his swing follows through, he takes a divot (seriously, a massive chunk of grass) from the ground and the little white golf balls veers hard left into the rough and the trees. "Damn it!" Kelso curses. He throws his driver onto the ground. It bounces slightly. Quickly regaining his composure, Kelso casually lifts his golf club from the ground and says, "What hospital did you say that was?"_

"_St Augustine's," my grandfather answers. "It's a private hospital in Greenwich, Connecticut."_

"_Private hospital?" Kelso repeats. "I bet that earns you quite a buck," he adds with a fake smile._

_My grandfather smiles and nods at Kelso. When my granddad turns his back to Kelso, Kelso's fake smile falters and is replaced with his usual stern 'I hate you' look._

"_My hospital, Sacred Heart, is a teaching hospital," Kelso says as the two being to walk down the fairway. "We don't get make as much money as your _private_ hospital. In fact, recently I couldn't afford to replace a broken MRI machine."_

_The conversation then leads onto the different types of machines, and the best type of MRI, which inevitably gives my grandfather reason to gloat._

"_I just purchased one of those for St Augustine's," my grandfather says. _

"_Oh, really?" Kelso says, his voice dripping with mock-enthusiasm. _

"_Yes," my granddad answers simply, oblivious to or ignoring Kelso's sarcasm. "Your shot."_

_Kelso quickly plays his shot, which sends his golf ball into the patch of rough on the opposite side of the fairway. He almost loses the rag, but manages to keep himself from displaying any outward signs of anger._

"_Oh, bad shot," my grandfather says with very subtle sarcasm._

_Kelso ignores him._

_They continue to walk down the fairway, debating the pros and cons of private hospitals over teaching hospitals, and discussing the advantages of certain machines St Augustine's Hospital has that Sacred Heart doesn't. Kelso gets more and more irritated as the conversation goes on._

They reach the point in the fairway for my grandfather to play his shot. He plays his swing with perfect syncopation and blasts the ball straight down the fairway and onto the green.

Dr Kelso's face contorts in anger and frustration.

"Ooh," Kate says. "I'm guessing that won't end well?"

"Nope. Actually I wouldn't be surprised if either, if not both of them are returned in body bags."

"Seriously?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Sheesh."

* * *

_Elliot will be sitting, waiting for her freshly painted nails to dry. She'll bring one of her hands closer to her face and gently blow along her nails to get them to dry quicker._

_One of the spa resort workers will enter the room carrying a dry cleaning bag. The person'll walk towards Elliot and say, "We were asked to give this to you." The person will hand over an envelope._

"_Thanks," Elliot will say. She'll glance down at her nails then say: "Could you do me a favour and open that?"_

_The spa worker will._

"_Thanks," Elliot will say as the worker leaves the room. She'll read over the note quickly._

Hey, it's me again. :) I really hope you like the dress. Maybe wear it for going home? I'll see you later. JD x.

_Elliot will shake her head and laugh slightly. She'll look at the hanging dry cleaners bag. And then at her nails. Then back to her nails. __And then back to the bag._

"_Fricking nails," she'll mutter with frustration. "Dry quickly now," she'll say to her nails as if they'll listen to her. She'll keep looking down at her nails until they dry. "Yes!" she'll say excitedly, jumping up from her chair and walking quickly towards the hanging bag. She'll carefully unzip the bag, and look at the black dress. "It's beautiful," she'll mutter to herself, before heading to a nearby changing room._

* * *

Break. However, nobody was in the cafeteria. At least, not anybody I would sit with. So I decided to look for Turk. I'm on my way for the first logical place to look: the doctor's lounge. And what do you know, there he is.

"Hey man," Turk says before I get a chance to speak. He doesn't look away from the TV he's watching. "How's it going? Are you still as apprehensive as you were this morning?"

"I'm medium," I answer. "What are you watching?"

"_How I Met Your Mother,_" he answers.

I've heard a bit about this, but I've never really watched it. "What's it about?"

"It's this guy telling his future kids about how he met their mom, you know, hence the title. It's all flashbacks of his old life as he tells the kids his story."

"Cool." I sit down and watch the show with Turk.

Or I would watch the show with Turk if I couldn't feel his eyes watching me. I keep looking at the TV while Turk looks at the TV for a second, then glances at me out of the corner of his eye, then glances back at the TV again. He continues this routing for about thirty seconds before he eventually gives in.

Turk sighs with annoyance. "Okay, seriously dude. What is your big thing for today?"

"Not telling you."

"Why not?" Turk whines. "Carla knows!"

"Yeah, 'cause I needed her help!" I say. "And I knew she wouldn't tell anyone."

"Hold up," Turk says sternly. "You won't tell me because you think I'll laugh, but you'll tell Carla because you think she won't tell people? Are you serious?"

"Normally, I'd be offended," Carla says. And when the hell did she walk in here? "But Turk actually has a point." She walks over to where Turk is sitting and sits down beside hi,

"Baby! You never say I have a point."

"That's because you never normally have a point," Carla deadpans. "At least not a legitimate one."

"And now _she_ has a point," I say, gesturing towards Carla.

"Dude!"

"Sorry."

Carla glances up at the TV. _"How I Met Your Mother_. Cool," she mutters. "Hey, Turk," Carla says a few seconds later, with a slight philosophical tone in her voice. "What would tell Izzy about how we met?"

Turk thinks for a few seconds. "Well, I'd probably tell her that I saw a beautiful nurse across the hall and from that moment I was a goner. What about you?"

Carla smiles. "Something similar."

I snigger just slightly. "Cheesy!" I say sing-songily. "And _total crap_."

Carla glares at me. "At least we have a sweet –if slightly exaggerated - story to tell our daughter. If you want to tell your kids about you and Elliot's relationship, it'll take five hours and you'll need to wait until your kid's at _least_ eighteen."

"Low blow, Espinosa," I say quietly. "Low blow."

Turk gently elbows Carla. "And 'low blows' are precisely why he can't tell his kids the story of how he met their mother!"

They both laugh.

"Oh look at the time," I say. "I have to go."

"Aw, Bambi," Carla sympathetically says. (Or it would seem more sympathetic if she wasn't still laughing.) "Is that because of the low blow thing? Because you kinda brought that upon yourself."

"No, although that does make it easier to love ya and leave ya," I says jokingly. "I just… I have somewhere I need to be." I nod to Carla, just to say she knows what's going on.

Turk looks between the two of us. "Okay, _seriously!_" He shrieks. "What is the deal?"

"Bye!" I say, swiftly exiting the room and leaving Carla to deal with Turk.

The elevator doors are open, so I run quickly as to not to have to wait five minutes for it to return to this floor. And I've made it in. There's no one else here. I dig my pager from my pocket and send Carla a message.

Once I'm out of here, you can tell him what's going on.

--

_Twenty minutes later, Elliot will be standing outside waiting for her taxi to arrive. She'll run her hands down the bottom of her dress, probably still happy that she's wearing something so nice, when she left her house this morning wearing jeans and an old t-shirt. _

_  
The yellow cab will pull up. "Elliot Reid?" The driver will ask out of the window._

"_That's me," Elliot will say, as she gets in the cab._

_The cab will drive off. "You had a good day?" The cabbie will ask, trying to make some conversation._

_Elliot'll smile. "It's been a good day._

--

I hate being in restaurants alone. All of the people keep glancing at me because I'm on my own. Some of them look sympathetically; others look like their holding back sniggers. I guess they've assumed I've been stood up. But no. I'm waiting for Elliot, who should be here any moment now.

I'm nervous again. Probably more so than I was this morning because this is it. This is the final part of the plan. In a few minutes, I'll find how it really went. I'll find out if Elliot loved it or hated it. Oh god, I hate nerves.

My stomach keeps rumbling with hunger, but that's probably made worse by the butterflies I'm currently experiencing.

And there she is. Elliot has just walked into the restaurant and she's looking around the room. She's wearing her black dress and she looks amazing. She doesn't notice me before the waiter approaches her if she has a reservation. She shakes her head and then notices me and gestures in my direction. As she walks towards me, I stand from my seat and pull the other seat out from the table.

"So, this morning I got picked up in a taxi from home and taken to a spa resort. Then, after I had been told by a random resort worker that this outfit has been left for me, I got taken in a cab from the spa resort to here," Elliot says, a hint of intrigue in her voice. "Did you have something to do with that?"

"I might have," I say nonchalantly.

Elliot puts her little bag on the table, before she steps closer to me. We automatically go into our routine: Elliot puts one of her hands on my shoulder; I put my hands on her hips and we kiss. It sounds cheesy, but every time I feel like we fit.

"Happy birthday," I say quietly when our lips part.

Elliot looks up at me and I think she's definitely happy. "Thank you."

As we take our seats, Elliot has a weird look of wonderment on her face. "How did you do it?"

I'm about to tell her that I spent all night bartering with the spa resort, asking them to carry out everything I asked them, like giving her the dress. I paid the cab company extra so they didn't tell Elliot where she was going. I got Alyssa and Turk to create different distractions for her parents so she didn't have to put up with them. And Carla, her best friend, helped me to organise the whole thing, even to the point I got her to lie to her own husband about what was going on and taking her to a dress store so she could tell me if I was buying Elliot the right dress to wear. But before I get a chance to tell Elliot all that, she speaks.

"You know what," she says, "I don't want to know. That's the whole point of the surprise, right?" She smiles knowingly.

I laugh. "You read the note."

"I did," Elliot replies, before taking a sip of the wine that was waiting for her. "I have to say, it did scare the living crap out of me."

"Sorry."

"But I trusted you that you had whatever was going on planned down to the last detail. I knew everything –whatever it was – would be alright," Elliot concludes smiling. "And I loved your surprise, by the way."

"I'm glad. I knew you would."

Elliot takes my hand, which I didn't even realise was lying on the table, in hers.

A waiter walks over to our table. "Here are your meals."

Elliot furrows her eyebrows. "But we didn't order anything yet."

"Somebody did," the waiter retorts, glancing in my direction.

Elliot looks towards me and I nod.

"Chicken and vegetable curry?" the waiter asks.

"That would be me," I say.

"And chicken tortellini with spicy tomato and cheese sauce for the lady."

"Thank you," Elliot says as the waiter puts her plate down in front of her. Once the waiter leaves, she turns to face me, smiling. "Chicken tortellini with spicy tomato and cheese sauce? Did you know that's my favourite restaurant meal?" she asks playfully.

"Really?" I ask with mock-oblivion. "I just guessed what meal to order."

Elliot giggles loudly. "Shut up. You knew!"

"I did."

"This birthday has been fricking awesome," Elliot says contentedly, taking a bite of her pasta.

Mission accomplished.

* * *


	14. Their Departure

Registration on Monday morning isn't the greatest time for most high school aged kids. Normally we're tired, lethargic, irritable and depressed because we have a full week of school ahead of us. But for once, I am happy.

Kate, who has her head resting on the table, glares up at me. "Why the heck are you so cheery?" She barks, her eyes still closed.

"Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?" I ask her sarcastically.

The answer I am given is a crabby snarl.

"And to answer your earlier question: I'm cheery because today is the day when my grandparents finally piss off back to Connecticut."

Kate's eyes open and she sits up. "They leave today?"

I smile and nod.

"Hells yeah, girl!" Kate says enthusiastically. "How jazzed are you really?"

I move my hand to way above my head as if it's creating a ceiling. "This much."

"This much what?" Michael asks as he enters the registration room.

"How excited Aly is that her grandparents are leaving today," Kate answers for me.

Michael looks at me and then raises his hand. "High five!"

I smack his palm.

Another classmate enters the registration room. "What we high fiving?"

"You people seriously need to be in the room at the same time so we don't need to explain twenty million times!" I say with mock-sarcasm.

"They're high fiving because Alyssa's grandparents are leaving today," Kate, once again, answers for me.

"You're high fiving because they're _leaving_?" Our classmate asks. "Isn't that a little nasty and insensitive?"

"Nope," I say. "Trust me, if you'd have met them you'd understand," I say when I notice the girl's dubious expression. "You guys have met them," I say to Kate and Michael. "You understand, right?"

Both of them nod, just as the teacher walks into the classroom. "Quiet down class." The teacher begins to the read down the register, and people in the class respond with 'here' when the teacher says their name.

Being in the class for a while, you know when your name will be called, so most of the time you drift off and think of other things, like how I'm completely happy my grandparents will be away from here by six o'clock tonight.

"Alyssa Reid," the teacher says. It's too early for my name in the register. "Stop squeaking," the teacher elaborates.

"I squeaked?"

"Yeah," Kate says.

Michael speaks too. "You squeaked."

"Oops," I say sheepishly.

"Why are you so happy?" Michael asks sarcastically. "Anybody would think your grandparents were leaving or something."

I laugh quietly.

* * *

I can't wait to get out of work tonight. The reason for my desperation to leave work? Well, tonight I get to take Elliot's parents to the airport and then I never have to see them again. Well, maybe not never. A while, at least. You get the sentiment.

"So Bambi," Carla says from behind the nurses' station. "You excited to be getting rid of the in-laws?"

Carla has been calling Elliot's parents my in-laws all week, and I have to admit, it has been bugging the crap out of me. "Carla, I thought we had this conversation Stop calling them my in-laws."

"Why?"

"Because Elliot and I aren't married yet so they're not technically my in-laws. And why is your eyebrow raised?"

"JD," Carla says sternly. "I want you to think about what you just said."

What did I just say? Thinking…thinking. I said something along the lines of 'Elliot and I aren't married yet'- "_Oh!"_

"There ya go."

"Still. The point is they're not my in-laws."

"Might as well be," Carla mutters under her breath,

"What was that?"

"Nothing!"

"Yeah right then." I walk away from Carla.

And now Turk is walking towards me. "Okay, dude. A word about your girlfriend. She has gone _insane_! And I'm not talking regular Elliot crazy. She's gone, like, a whole other kind of crazy. Like, dancing and singing loudly in the doctors' lounge crazy."

Laugh.

"And no offence, V Bear, but she's kinda killing everybody's ears."

"Singing and dancing? Yeah, she was doing that in the car this morning."

"And you can _still hear_?" Turk says incredulously.

"Dude, that's a bit harsh."

Turk shakes his head. "It's not. It's really not. By the way Dr Kelso wants a word with all the attendings at the second floor nurses' station, and he had an evil smirk on his face so prepare yourself."

"Oh, great," I say sarcastically.

It doesn't take Turk and me long to reach the nurses' station, and more to Turk's surprise than mine, Elliot is already standing there.

As I stand next to Elliot and wrap an arm around her waist, Turk says this: "Uh, Elliot, I thought you were doing crazy singing thing in the doctors' lounge?"

"Yeah, I was, but Dr Cox threatened to kill me if I didn't shut up," Elliot shrugs. "And then he dragged me here for this damn meeting with Kelso. Speaking of whom." Elliot gestures to Kelso who just approached the nurses' station.

Dr Kelso begins his speech. "A few of you may remember that in the past you've had to complete mandatory service to Sacred Heart's free clinic. Well, I will be reinstating mandatory clinic service, starting in three weeks. I'll be leaving it up to Dr Cox to decide in which order you undertake your service."

Turk raises a hand. "Uh sir, why is a fellow attending deciding when other attendings complete their service?"

Kelso shrugs. "Well, Turkleberry. Maybe it's because I think he knows you all better and will be better informed to make the decision. Or maybe I just couldn't be bothered deciding for myself and decided to pawn off all the work on him. Either way, you better hope you haven't done anything recently to piss him off."

With this, Kelso walks away, and Dr Cox starts talking.

"Well, I don't say this very often, and with good reason, but this time Big Bobbo is right. You really had better hope that you haven't done anything recently to annoy me. But oh so many of you have and will continue to annoy and I am in a rare position of being able to inflict pain on you with no real possibility of it coming back to haunt me."

"Oh, god," Elliot quietly mutters.

"But now I have a real dilemma on my hands. Who do I choose for first clinic service? Who. Do. I. Choose? Do I choose the nervous guy who stutters every time he begins a sentence? Do I choose the annoying girl who will not stop day dreaming?"

That would be me.

"_Or_," Dr Cox says loudly, "do I choose the girl who burst my eardrums and gave me _thee world's worst headache_ with her annoyingly loud and horribly out-of-key warbling."

I hear Elliot groan.

Dr Cox snarls manically. "I think I do," Dr Cox continues. "Congratulations, Barbie. You have first shift. Enjoy. And let this be a lesson: don't ever sing again." Dr Cox walks away.

"I knew singing was going to come back and bite me on the ass," Elliot says exasperatedly a few moments later before walking off.

"Damn free clinic!" Turk says. "I hate that place."

I sigh. "Yup, me too."

* * *

The airport is busy. Well, considering it's 6pm on a Monday night I'm not so surprised. Unlike a week ago, I feel good being here. Elliot isn't dreading her parents arrival,and even though she's kinda calmed down from her singing and dancing episode. and she's smiling, which of course makes me a happy chappy.

Alyssa even tagged along to the airport. To be honest, I think she's just here to make sure her grandparents really go. I would have done the same.

Elliot's parents are checking in their luggage right now.

"I don't think I'm going to fully believe they're going until they're actually _away_," Elliot says to me.

It's Alyssa who answers. "You can bet your ass they're going. I've been happy-dancing about it all day," she laughs. "And singing loudly in the common room," she adds, speaking more sheepishly.

"And I'm guessing that did not make you very popular?" Elliot asks.

Aly looks down at the ground awkwardly. "It did not. As punishment they spun me around on the swivel chair until I couldn't see straight. And it was just before the change of class, so I was criss-crossing all along the corridor. I think some people thought I was drunk."

Just out of curiosity, because I can remember common room days (unlike some people I went to high school with), I ask, " Were you drunk?"

"No," Alyssa answers. "At least, _I_ wasn't."

"So other people were?"

"Let's just say there's a secret stash somewhere that the teachers have yet to discover," Alyssa answers. "Oh come on," she says after noticing the condemning expressions on Elliot's face and mine. "It's our last year; it's our chance to rebel."

"As long as you don't rebel too much. If I get a phone call from the school one day to tell me you're drunk and to pick you up, I will kick your ass," Elliot says sternly. It's not often you see her in full 'protective aunt' mode, but when she's in it, she means it.

"Aunt Elliot, I wouldn't get drunk at school. Exclusion for drunken behaviour wouldn't look good on a prospective medical student's application."

Elliot smiles at her niece. "That's smart thinking. Have you started applying for pre-med courses yet?"

"Not yet," Alyssa answers. "Will be soon though."

"Well, if you ever need any advice you can always speak us," I say, and Elliot smiles at me.

Alyssa nods. "Thanks. Oh, heads up."

Elliot parents are walking towards the three of us, minus two suitcases. And, as per usual, they're bickering amongst each other. I can only gather that Lily is blaming Simon for the long queue. I've learned that Elliot's mother usually isn't happy unless she's complaining about something… or hitting on someone. Each to their own.

"So Grandma, Grandpa," Alyssa says happily. "How was checking in?"

Lily Reid attempts to smile innocently, but everybody knows that isn't the case. "Oh, checking in was easy," she says. " The young man who checked us was very pleasant, very polite, very nice."

"And by that she means he was willing to flirt with her," Simon Reid explains.

Three of us – Alyssa, Elliot and I – look down the hall to where a young check-in guy is looking in our direction and waving flirtatiously at Lily.

"That's not disturbing," Alyssa sarcastically snarls under her breath. "That guy needs serious mental help. What the hell?" She rhetorically asks, still looking down the hall at the really idiotic guy.

Lily Reid once again waves at the check-in guy. "We'll need to be sure to fly with this airline next time we visit."

And if there is a god the next time you visit will be years from now and that guy will have another job.

"Well, be sure to let us know the next time you'll be in town," Elliot says dryly and begrudgingly, and I have to slyly laugh at Alyssa's not-so-subtle look of fear.

Hmm. It just occurred to me that Elliot's dad has been oddly quiet. Of course, that could be because his wife hasn't shut up. I'm not particularly bothered by this; I really don't like the guy. But, we are being civil. We're even on first name terms.

"John, could I have a private word with you?" Elliot's dad asks.

Okay, so when I say we're on 'first name terms', I mean we're on formal first name terms. Nobody calls me John. Not even my mother calls me John.

"Uh, sure," I say semi-nervously.

As Elliot's dad walks away down the hall, Elliot looks at me with a weird form of suspicion. "What does he want to talk to you about?" She asks.

"I'm not sure," I say, "but I'll go find out."

"Good luck!"

I smile.

* * *

Elliot's dad is standing farther down the check-in hall. He's looking at the departures board, probably checking to see if his flight is delayed. Dear god, no…

When I am eventually standing next to him, Elliot's dad says, "Oh, John." He acts surprised, like he didn't see me. Yeah, right.

"You wished to speak with me?"

"Yes," he says. "I won't waste my time saying things I already have, and apologies that I know Elliot nor you will accept. But I just wanted to ask you take care of my daughter. Make her happy; I know you do already. Make her happy, JD." He doesn't wait for any response from me before walking away.

I don't move. I stand, slightly shell-shocked, looking ahead of me. "I plan to," I say. That was the weirdest thing ever.

I walk back to where Elliot, Alyssa and Elliot's parents are talking. When I'm standing next to Elliot, she turns slightly and quietly says, "What was that about?"

"Ah… nothing," I say casually.

I don't think she completely bought that because she's still looking at me with a smirk that says 'Yeah, right.'

"Well, we should probably head to the gate," Elliot's mother says.

Yes. Yes you should.

"Well, you wouldn't want to miss your flight, would you?" Elliot says, desperately trying to hide her happiness that they're about to go.

Lily shakes her head. "And I want to get a drink at the bar."

"Of course you do," Alyssa mutters. Her sarcasm can be so scathing sometimes. And yet her grandparents don't seem to notice it. "Well we wouldn't want to keep you." Alyssa turn on her heel and takes two steps towards the exit before she interrupted, by her grandfather.

"Aren't you going to say goodbye?"

It's hilarious the way Aly's shoulder and head slump. "Of course I am," she says grudgingly before spinning back round on her heel. "See ya," she says to her grandmother before hugging her. Once the hug is broken, Alyssa says the same thing to Simon and hugs him. What's weird though is once that hug is broken, Simon is looking at Alyssa like he's apologising for something. That's weird. So is me being the only one to notice that.

Elliot also goes to hug her parent. When she is hugging her mother, Lily attempts to do something to Elliot's hair. "There," Lily says. "Much better."

"Thanks mom," Elliot says with the same scathing sarcastic tone as Alyssa used earlier. Seems to run in the family. "To be honest, I'd have been disappointed if she didn't take one last shot."

Once all hugs and the like are exchanged between the Reid family, Simon steps over to me and holds his hand out for me to shake. Which, of course, I do. I still really don't like the guy, but that conversation earlier, it…. I don't know. It sort of made

him a bit less Evil Bastard and little bit more Human. I still hate his guts though.

"Well, we should get going," Simon says.

Lily, however, is still flirtatiously with the check-in guy.

"Lily, we need to go," Simon repeats.

He is ignored.

"Lily?"

Once again, ignored.

Simon sighs. "To hell with this." He grabs Lily's arm, and drags her towards the escalator. Lily's attempts at a fight are both pathetic and hilarious.

We – that being Alyssa, Elliot and me – watch with held breath as Lily and Simon walk along the balconied corridor towards security. Waiting.

Waiting.

"And they're outta here!" I say happily. Elliot does a slight, very restrained happy dance.

"Ladies and gentleman, normal service has been resumed!" Alyssa says sarcastically.

"I don't think I've been happier to see someone leave," Elliot says, and she rests her head on my shoulder and takes my hand.

"Me neither," I say.

We're both quiet for a few moments. I think we've both watching for Elliot's parents returning.

"Uh, guys?" Alyssa says hesitantly, but not looking in our direction. "I know you guys are having you cute, sappy romantic moment, but now that they're gone –" Alyssa points in the direction that Elliot's parents just went. "- And they're not coming back, can we please go and get something to eat? Because some of us haven't eaten since breakfast because we were squeeing too much." She then silently mouths 'Oops.'

"Sure thing kiddo," I say. "Where do you want to go?"

"I honestly do not care," Alyssa says quickly. "Just as long as the food is edible."

"Fair enough," Elliot adds.

We all begin to walk out of the airport. Elliot holds my hand as we walk, and Alyssa walks slightly ahead of us.

"Hey," Elliot says quietly. "What did my dad want to talk to you about?"

"Nothing important," I shrug.

She laughs just a little. "Okay, I know it was something. The deer in headlights look you were sporting kinda gave that away." Elliot pauses. "You'll tell me eventually, right?"

"Maybe," I say with mock-tease.

Elliot laughs a bit louder. "You know you will."

"Yeah, I do."

* * *

_**AN: I'm not particularly keen on this chapter. I'm sorry. Please let me honestly know what you think. I should be honest now and tell you I don't know when I'll be updating next; I'm back at school now, so it depends what time I have. Sorry.**_


	15. My Janitor's Trick And No Treat

**AN: Sorry it has taken me so long to update. Life and such got in the way. :( But here it is, and I hope you enjoy. Note, a few weeks have passed since the end of the last chapter.**

* * *

**My Janitor's Trick-And-No-Treat**

I have been looking forward to tonight all week! Kate is bringing my costume over tonight. Halloween and the fundraiser is tomorrow, and tonight will be the first time I see my costume. You see, along with twenty million other people including my aunt Elliot and JD, I caught the flu last week. I have been off school for the last week, in my bed waiting for the flu to pass. It was not fun. And it's still not completely passed. My nose is still choked, but that's nothing. But there has been an upside to being stuck in my bed all week. I've had a lot of time to think about Halloween.

I really can't remember the last time I was this excited about Halloween. Well, of course, that could be because I never really celebrated it with my parents. They were either working, or they just didn't care about Halloween.

Okay, that's somebody knocking on my door. It's probably Kate. It is. And she's wearing a surgical mask over her mouth. "Relax," I say, rolling my eyes. "I'm no longer contagious. You can lose the surgical mask."

"Awesome," Kate mutters gleefully as she walks into the apartment carrying a dry-cleaners' style bag, and I close the door.

"Where did you get that anyway? Did you steal that from the hospital?"

"No, I did _not_ steal it from the hospital. What kind of person do you take me for?" Kate defensively says. "I stole it from the biology department at school."

"And that's better…_how_?"

After a few moments of thinking Kate speaks. "Shut up."

"Nice comeback, really. Did it take you long to come up with that one?"

"_Shut up!"_

"And there we have it again!" I sarcastically applaud.

"_Anyway_." Kate is quite clearly trying to change the subject. "Wanna see your costume?" She asks, holding up the dry-cleaners bad. She also has a somewhat evil smirk on her face, which, I have to say, is a bit unnerving.

"Uh, yeah," I answer, trying not to let the slight nervousness I'm feeling show in my voice.

Kate unzips the bag slowly to reveal –

"Oh you have _got_ to be kidding me," I say when I see the costume.

* * *

It's weird walking into the hospital today. It's like a kiddies' funland. There are decorations on the walls, and 'Happy Halloween' banners. There was even a Pumpkin Carving table outside.

Elliot looks and me and asks, "You so want to go outside and carve a pumpkin, don't you?"

"I do, I really do"

She laughs. "You're so predictable," she jokes. As we walk along the corridor, Elliot rummages in her bag for something. "JD, any chance you have any painkillers. I've left mine at home."

"I'm really sorry I don't."

"Damn."

"You still feeling fluey?"

Elliot frowns. "I just have a bit of a headache."

"You going to be okay for work today?" I ask. "Because if you're not, just go home. I'll cover for you."

"Thanks, but I'll be okay. Just a headache. Beside, I'm already a week down on my clinic shifts. If I don't work today I can't go to the clinic tonight, and I really don't want that hanging over me for too much longer."

"Okay. If you're sure?" I ask, taking Elliot's other hand.

"I'm sure," Elliot smiles. Then she kisses me. "I'm going to go upstairs and get ready."

"Okay. See you at lunch?"

"Yeah, I'll meet you there," Elliot says, as she walks into an elevator, and I walk into the main ward.

This hospital is a freak show today. I love it. Everybody is dressed in the wackiest costumes. Even some of the patients have got into the spirit. A few of them are wearing pumpkin hats. All of the staff are in a better mood than usual too, even Dr Cox.

"Hey there, Delilah," he says to me. "You see, I go with 'Hey there, Delilah' as it meets the criteria of being both a song lyric _and_ a girls' name."

"You're participating in the lyrical conversation challenge, I see."

Dr Cox scrunches his eyebrows. "No, I'm taking part in the lyrical calling-you-a-girls'-name challenge."

"Okay."

"Roxanne, mind telling me who's responsible for this fancy dress monstrosity?"

"The volunteers. But if you want to get technical about it, Dr Kelso," I say. But then I look at what he's wearing. "You're dressed up too, so why you complaining?"

Dr Cox shrugs. "Because I can."

Walking towards where Dr Cox and I are standing are Alyssa and her friend Kate. They're talking about something or other.

"A fairy costume?" Alyssa asks. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. The theme is fictional creatures are you, my dear, are a fairy. Trust me, you were best suited for that character." Kate says. You can totally tell she's trying to keep a sarcastic little smirk off her face. "You know, 'cause fairies are generally kinda small and –"

Alyssa stops walking and interrupts Kate. "Okay. I know at just short of five foot one, I am officially the midget of both the Reid family and the Sacred Heart Volunteers, but is that enough of a reason to qualify me for being the fairy?"

"Hey, be grateful, we were gonna have you as one of the seven dwarfs!"

"Wow," Alyssa mutters quietly.

Kate looks around, probably wondering what Alyssa was wow-ing at. "What?"

"I never realised how much your costume suits you until now, you wicked witch!"

"I know I should be pissed at you for that," Kate says, "but really I walked into it."

Alyssa nods. "Yeah you did."

"Can I ask a quick question?" I ask, which causes both girls to turn at look at me. "How long did it take you to put all the warts and everything on?"

"Only about half an hour," Kate answers.

Alyssa glares at her. "Lucky you. It took me two and a half hours to do all this. _And_ I got yelled at for waking him and my aunt up."

"Well, to be fair, it was 5.30 and your hairdryer is surprisingly loud."

"Yeah, I know. It's a bit goosed; I need to buy a new one." Alyssa pauses, but a few moments later she asks: "What is your costume by the way? Because when I said vampire, you said no. But if you're not a vampire then you look a hell of a lot like one, so what are you?"

"I'm Dr. Acula."

The teenagers glance at each other with completely confused expressions, before glancing back at me. "We're sorry," Alyssa says. "Dr Acula?"

"Yeah. It's a screenplay character that I created a few years ago. I'd let you read it, but the Janitor burned it."

"Well, that sucks. By the way we need to collect sponsor money for the dress-up," Alyssa explain, " and we were wondering if you have any?"

"Not right now. Sorry. But if you speak to me later when I have some change."

"Okay," Alyssa mutters whilst writing something on a piece of paper. "We're gonna put you down for collect at lunch. Is that cool?"

"Yes that's cool."

The two girls then walk away at call the attention of Dr Cox to, I presume, ask him the same question about sponsor money. And now Carla is walking towards me carrying a stack of charts.

"Hey Dr Acula, happy Halloween!" She says cheerily.

"Same to you…" This is bad. I don't even know what her costume is. "What are you?"

Carla laughs and rolls her eyes. "I'm Mama Bear."

"Mama Bear?"

"As in Goldilocks and the three bears, Mama Bear, Daddy Bear, and Baby Bear. Turk and I are taking Izzy trick-or-treating in the apartment building after work and we won't have time to switch costumes."

I look to Carla quizzically. "You're taking Izzy trick-or-treating."

"Yeah. The tenants' association has organised a trick or treat for all the kids in the building."

"Izzy isn't even a year old yet, and Turk's diabetic," I say. "What the hell are you going to do with all the candy?" With any luck, they'll give it all to me.

"Fruit will be handed out."

"Fruit?" I question sceptically. "What lame-ass trick-or-treat is your building organising?"

"Well then, you're not going to be invited."

"I wouldn't want to be invited. I'll just go trick-or-treating in my own building."

A smirk spreads across Carla's face. "Your building or Elliot's building?"

"Probably Elliot's building, but still. The point is I wouldn't want to go to your lame fruit-dispensing trick-or-treat anyway."

I was about to say something else, but Dr Cox just hit me on the nose with a newspaper, and I can't for the life of me remember what it was.

"Ow! What the hell? That hurt!"

Dr Cox stands in front of me with his arms folded and he's looking rather pissed off. "I've told you before Valerie, cut out the drama queen tantrums. We've just had a patient turfed to us from another department, because apparently they _still_ can't figure out what the pain in his arm is being caused by and you two –" Dr Cox points to Carla and me – "are gonna help me." He whistles and signals for us to follow him.

"Hey Bambi," Carla whispers quietly as we walk behind Dr Cox. "Is he seriously dressed as Jesus?"

"I think so. Does that mean the end of the world is coming?"

"I hope not," Carla answers. "I mean, can you even imagine Cox as the messiah?"

I think I can…

**It's a busy day in a market town. People are going about their busy work, buying, selling and bartering for food. Somewhere, in a quiet corner of the market, a group of people are looking up at someone with amazement. He stands on a rock, higher than the crowd. His hair is long and he wears a flowing with robe. The people call him Jesus Cox and they go to him for advice on how to live their lives.**

"**Jesus Cox," a young man calls out. "I feel only despair and sorrow. How should I be rid of this agony?"**

"**Drink a butt load of scotch and erase the misery from your brain," Jesus Cox answers. "Next question."**

"**Jesus Cox, my wife had an affair with our teenage gardener," one older gentleman cries out. **

**Jesus Cox looks at him harshly. "Sucks to be you."**

"**But what should I do?"**

"**Well Sally, I think you should grow a pair."**

"**But, great Jesus Cox, what do you mean?"**

"**I mean, you should man up, go round to the gardener's house with a baseball bat and beat the crap out of the bastard!"**

"**But isn't it always better to forgive and turn the other cheek than to seek revenge?" Another villager asks.**

"**No no no," Jesus Cox says quickly, shaking his head. "You always seek revenge. Trust me. You'll always feel better."**

**An old woman starts shouting. "But won't seeking revenge be a sin in the eyes of the Lord? Isn't revenge the work of Satan?"**

**  
Jesus Cox sighs. "Here is a list of things more likely than revenge being the work of Satan: ****Rachel and Joey ever ending up together. Newbie growing a pair. Turk and Carla not being some kind of two headed monster. Stella being the mother. A sequel to Hope Floats. Spore overtaking The Sims. Aliens invading the planet. Have I made my point clear?"**

**The crowd is silent, almost awestruck at his enveloping presence. They have no idea what Jesus Cox said, but they believe every word if it.**

**A little girl in the crowd raises her hand. "Jesus Cox, how do you know so very much?"**

"**Because I am Jesus Cox," he answers. "And I know everything."**

**As Jesus Cox walks away, still leaving the crowd in a stunned silence. **

"**I love you!" a random woman shouts from the back of the crowd.**

**Jesus Cox stops, turns around and looks to the woman. "So do I."**

"When life's tough, sometimes you've just got to ask yourself 'What would Cox do?'"

Carla sighs. "I don't know what you were daydreaming about, but my guess would be, he'd drink a lotta scotch."

"He did tell someone to drink some scotch," I mutter pensively.

"What?" Carla asks with bewilderment.

"It was a long fantasy."

"They always are, JD. They always are."

Carla and I walk into the next patient's room, where Dr Cox is already standing.

"This is Mr Hannigan," Dr Cox says, while gesturing towards the patient. "He is a thirty-five-year-old presenting with severe pains to the upper arm. Pain medication does not seem to working, nor does physiotherapy so now he's so we can figure out the cause of his pain."

The patient raises his hand.

"Yes, Mr Hannigan?" Dr Cox says.

"Are you guys dressed up as a bear, a vampire and um… Jesus?" Mr Hannigan asks. "Or do I need to add hallucination to my list of symptoms?"

"No," I answer. "It's a Halloween fundraiser. Everybody's dressed up. It's so –"

"Reel it in there, Delta Dawn, the patient does not care."

"No, it was interesting," Mr Hannigan says.

Resist urge to rub it in Dr Cox's face.

"Well, we're going to book you in for a CT scan which will hopefully tell us what is causing your pain. But for now, I'm going to leave you in the very capable hands of Nurse Bear and Dr… Acula," Jesus (since we're apparently referring to each other by our character names) says begrudgingly. "I'll be seeing you later. I got more people to miraculously heal."

Once Dr Cox has left the room, I approach the IV machine to inspect the level of meds Mr Hannigan is being given. I hear a knock at the door.

"Hey, Momma Bear." Oh, it's Alyssa at the door. "We kinda have a bit of a situation."

This sounds like a good gossip. "Oh, what kind of situation?"

It's then that I see that Alyssa's friend Kate is there too. Both girls' eyes go wide when they see me, which I guess means neither of them knew I was here.

"Um….." Alyssa's stuttering. A lot. "Well…"

It's a well-known fact that when somebody stutters, the gossip they are about to tell is good. It's good gossip.

She's cracking. She's cracking. And she's speaking in Spanish. Damn, I forgot Alyssa could do that. And I can't understand what's being said. I knew I should never have bunked the Spanish classes in college.

Something I've always wondered. Why do people always furrow their eyebrows when they're confused? Carla did that just now. I know what you're thinking. Carla's speaking in Spanish, so how can I tell whether she's confused? I just can. I've known the woman eight years, I can tell when she's confused in any language.

"Uh, JD?" Carla says quietly. "Can you take care of Mr Hannigan just now? There's… I need to be somewhere for a little while."

"Yeah, sure."

Carla exits the room, still speaking in Spanish to Alyssa.

"That sounded interesting," Mr Hannigan mutters.

"Yeah." I wonder what they're up to. "Anyway, Mr Hannigan, I'll be seeing you later got your CT scan."

I wonder who my next patient is. I should go over to Laverne and get the next chart. Ooh, there are cupcakes in a tub on the nurses' station. Gingerly, I release the lid of the tub, but that's as far as I get before somebody whacks my hands.

"Step away from the cupcakes, Q-tip," Laverne says sternly. "I made those for the bake sale."

"Can't I have just one?"

Laverne wallops me on the head with a chart.

"I'll take that as a 'no' then," I mutter angrily, taking the chart that Laverne just hit me with and walking away.

Now, as much as my head hurts and as much as I'm annoyed because I didn't get one, the fact that there are cupcakes on the go makes me happy. It proves to myself what I was thinking about earlier. Everybody has put in such an effort into this whole fundraiser. Well, nearly everybody.

"Didn't want to get dressed up then?" I say to the Janitor who is mopping next to where I'm standing.

He looks at me with a hurt look on his face. "I'm dressed as Frankenstein," he answers shakily.

"Oh no."

"What? You think because I'm just a lowly janitor that I can't appreciate the fun of Halloween. You think Halloween is too sophisticated for me?"

Crap. Now would be a good time for me to walk away.

"Come on," The Janitor shouts behind me. "You can come over to my house and tell my kids that the costumes I made for them out of bin bags and pillowcases are cheap!"

I'm so going to pay for that. And lucky for me, there's my patient's room.

* * *

My consultation with that patient is complete. It was over quicker than I'd hoped. I kinda wanted to be in there for a while to give Janitor a bit of time to forget what happened. I actually wouldn't put it past him to be standing on the other side of this room door, waiting to get me with his knifewrench or something.

I open the door slowly, careful to check if the Janitor is lurking anywhere nearby. Look left. Look right. The coast is clear. Awesome.

As I walk down the corridor, my pager beeps. It's Dr Cox. _Mr Hannigan's CT scan. 11.30. Be there. You have been warned. _

I'll be there.

"Hey Dr Acula!" I hear from behind me.

"Hey Chocolate Bear!" I respond. "Your nickname seems all the more appropriate when you're actually dressed as a bear."

"I forgot how awesome Halloween is," Turk says. "Halloween is _awesome_!"

"You know it. By the way, what's this I'm hearing about a fruit dispensing trick-or-trick in your building?"

Turk chuckles. "Yeah that's what Carla thinks. See dude, me and a few other guys in the building have a secret candy trade going on that our wives don't know about. Keep it the hush-hush, okay?"

"Of course, SCB. I wouldn't say a thing." I gesture as if I'm zipping up my mouth for added effect.

Turk raises an eyebrow. "You realise that look more like you're applying lipstick?"

"I know." Frown.

Turk stops walking suddenly. "Dude," he says in his apprehensive tone. "Why's the Janitor looking at you like at?"

The Janitor is mopping next to the nurses' station. He has his evil expression on. That can't be good for me. He then shakes his head, snarls, and walks off in the opposite direction from Turk and me.

"That was scary," Turk mumbles. "He looks pissed at you. Good luck, man," he concludes, slapping my arm.

"Don't leave me!"

"Sorry man, I've got surgery." He walks away.

Okay. Plan of action. Get to the nurses' station before Janitor can walk back up the corridor and grab me. I need to type up notes anyway. Walk quickly, walk quickly. Excellent. I'm safe now. And the computer is free. Even better.

As I switch on the computer and wait for it to load up, I see out of the corner of my eye that the Janitor is mopping his was back up the corridor. Ha ha, you can't get me here. The computer is telling me to enter my username and password. Hmm. The keyboard keys feel weird. Out of habit, I rest my fingers on the keys while the computer loads up.

One of the volunteers I don't particularly know approaches the nurses' station, carrying some folders. "Excuse me, have you seen Dr Cox?" The kid asks. "I'm supposed to give these to him."

"I think he's down that way," I answer. I also attempt to indicate down the corridor with my right hand, but when I move it, my other hand and the computer keyboard go along with it.

Janitor.

Just as I think that, Janitor walks by, whistling and tapping a closed bottle of super glue on his shoulder.

"Haven't you done this prank already?"

Janitor shrugs. "Meh."

I roll my eyes. "How long before it wears off this time?"

"'Bout an hour, hour and a half." Janitor says casually, looking at the glue bottle.

"I'm supposed to be in radiology in twenty minutes!"

Cackling, the janitor says: "Sucks to be you."

Damn.

* * *

_Thirty minutes later…_

I am still stuck to the freaking keyboard. Janitor… god only knows where he's disappeared to now. And I 'm supposed to be down in radiology like, _right now!_

"Would somebody please de-stick this keyboard from my hands?" I shout in a vain hope that somebody will eventually help me.

"Keep it down, Q-tip," Laverne quickly says. "I'm gonna help you, but this is gonna hurt. You ready?"

"Trust me, it'll hurt much more when Dr Cox beats me up for being late for the CT scan. Just get the fingers off the keyboard."

"Okay."

Laverne rolls her sleeves slowly, like she's preparing herself for battle. The last time I saw her do that was when the Janitor (him again) challenged me to a game of jiggly ball and she was allowed to step up to the 'death line'. If this hurts as much as having a thousand tennis balls thrown at me? I'm screwed. She signals for someone to keep their hands on the keyboard to get it to stay on the table. The she wraps her hands around my wrists. "One," she counts. "Two." Her grip tightens.

Oh, god.

"Three!" With that, she yanks my hands upwards with so much force that they become detached from the keyboard.

OH, HOLY CRAP THAT HURTS!! OW OW OW OW OW OW!

"I think some of my skin has been ripped from my fingers!" I shriek, looking down at my hands. The tips of my fingers are really red.

Laverne's facial expression turns defensive. "Hey, don't say I didn't warn you!"

"I won't. Laverne, thank you. I owe you one!" I loudly shout as I head out of the nurses station and run down the corridor. I hope Dr Cox doesn't get too angry.

* * *

It's time for Mr Hannigan's CT scan. I was supposed to be here ten minutes ago, but luckily Jesus hasn't killed me. And of course, by Jesus, I do mean Dr Cox. Ha. Jesus beating up a vampire. There's a fight I'd pay to see. You know, providing I wasn't the vampire and Dr Cox wasn't Jesus, because in that case I'd be running for my life. I'll say it, Dr Cox might be an older-ish guy, but he's got a solid punch. Dr Kelso knows that. I still laugh at the memory of Dr Cox punching out Dr Kelso in the waiting room at the end of our second year. God, that was hilarious.

"Oi, Eleanor Rigby!" Dr Cox's deep shout then whistle snaps me out of my chain of thought. "I know Barbie's clinically insane, but that doesn't mean _you_ have to start acting like that. Stop laughing at nothing."

"I'm not laughing at nothing," I protest. "I'm thinking about that time you punched Dr Kelso in face. That was classic."

"And five years ago. Get over it," Dr Cox snarls scathingly. "Why are you late?"

"The Janitor had my fingers superglued to the keyboard."

"Whaaaaaat did you do to piss him off this time?"

"Why would you automatically assume I'd have done something to annoy him?" I have, but that's not the point.

Dr Cox looks at me sideways. "Because you're _you_ and _you_ are oh so very annoying, I'm beginning to think you are a minion of Satan himself and you have been put on this earth to test everybody's patience so much that they snap and kill you and are _themselves_ sent straight to Hell."

"You're really running with the religious theme, aren't you?"

"No, I'm running with the fictional characters theme."

Ouch. If Nurse Roberts hears him saying that, there's not telling what she'll do. She's like the most religious person anybody in this hospital knows.

"And where is Carla? She was supposed to be here too."

"I don't know." Actually, I haven't seen her since she was speaking to Alyssa this morning. That was two hours ago. "There was a gossip thing going on this morning so who knows where she is."

Although, speak of the devil. Carla rushes into the monitor room. "Sorry I'm late, there's a situation. It's complicated," Carla concludes, looking directly at me. That was weird.

"Hey, look at this," the radiologist says. He gestures to the monitor, which shows Mr Hannigan's scan. "I can see nothing that would be causing the pain in his arm," he says.

"Damn," I mutter with frustration. "What could be causing this guy's pain?"

"I don't know," Dr Cox quietly says. "But I say the next step is exploratory surgery. You." Dr Cox points to me. "Go speak to your black wife. Go now."

I get to go and speak to Turk again. Awesome.

* * *

I'm halfway down to surgery when I see the Janitor leaning on his mop and staring at me. "Now I'm doubly mad at you," he snarls.

I raise my eyebrows. "What? What have I done to annoy you now?"

The Janitor glares at me evilly. "Oh you know."

"No, I don't."

"You know _exactly_ what you've done."

"Whatever." I walk past him, but I can sense that he has also turned around and is evil-glaring at me walking down the corridor.

This hospital is weird today. More specifically, the Janitor is weird today. And so is Carla. There are quite a lot of weirdos today.

I wish I didn't have to wait on the elevator. I can feel the Janitor's eyes burning into me.

_Ding._

Oh, thank god. The elevator door slide slowly open and I can hear the tail end of a conversation.

"You have to admit," a female voice says. "The irony would be pretty funny." In the elevator are Alyssa and her friend Kate. I keep bumping into them today.

"What irony?" I ask.

"Nothing!" Both girls says quickly, as they walk out of the elevator, and I walk in to it.

"By the way," Alyssa says, "have you seen Carla?"

"Yeah, she's just along there."

"Thank you!"

The elevator doors close. And down two floors I go.

* * *

It's 1.30pm, or in other words, lunchtime. I was supposed to be meeting Elliot for lunch but I haven't been able to find her. Okay, when I say I haven't been able to find her, I've only checked the cafeteria, and I can't remember if we agreed to meet at the nurses' station or the cafeteria. But it appears she isn't here either.

"Hey, idiot," the janitor says from behind me.

I turn around to face him.

"You looking for Blonde Doctor?" he asks.

"Yes."

"She's in the supply closet."

"Really? Cool. Thanks. "

The window on the supply closet door is blacked out, so I can't look in. I open the door and slowly enter. Elliot's not here. Stupid Janitor. I need to get gauze anyway for my next patient, so I step further into the closet. And then the door closes behind me. I find the gauze and head out of the door.

It's locked. JD, you gullible idiot. You _know_ that the Janitor would do nothing to help you. I guess I'll just have to page someone to get me out of here.

Wait.

Where's my pager?

Sigh.

Sneaky Janitor.

* * *

An hour later, and I'm still locked in this freaking supply closet. The Janitor has buggered off, and sitting on my ass on a cold supply closet floor, cold and hungry because the Janitor locked me in a supply closet. I am not amused.

Being locked in a supply closet gives you a lot of time to think. Or it should. I didn't think of anything important. I thought of a new Dr. Acula screenplay. I'm thinking there's some kind of major epidemic and the government secretly employ him to discover what and who is infecting everybody. That could be really interesting. I should write that sometime. Later though. Knowing the way the Janitor has been acting recently, he'd just burn it again.

Maybe I'm hallucinating, but I think I heard a key being inserted into the lock. I'll stand up, but knowing my luck today, it will be the Janitor and he's waiting to sucker-punch me back to the ground. Will I ever get out of here?

The door opens quickly and I instinctively duck, expecting to be smacked in the face by Frankenstein's fist. He should start shouting at me any second now.

…… He still hasn't yelled at me. This is weird. I look up and for what has to be the fiftieth time today I see Elliot's niece and her friend. They're looking at me with really confused expressions.

"You two are probably thinking the same thing as I am."

"Why every time a door opens you're on the other side of it?" Alyssa sarcastically asks. "How the hell did you end up stuck in here anyway?"

"It's a long story. What are you two doing here?"

Alyssa looks at her friend, and once again she's stuttering.

"We were asked to do inventory!" Kate says quickly and enthusiastically, way too enthusiastically for someone who was asked to do inventory. "Dr Cox is looking for you, by the way."

"Oh, great," I say as I leave the tiny cupboard. "By any chance have either of you seen Elliot recently?"

The two girls look at each other then back at me before nodding.

"Did he seem pissed?"

Once again, both girls nod.

"Oh god." I begin to run down the corridor, but then it occurs to me. "How did you two get the keys for that cupboard?" I ask as I turn to face them again.

Kate shrugs. "We asked Janitor and he gave us them. Why?"

"Just wondering." I continue my walk down the corridor. But I wonder why the janitor would give them the keys when he knows he's locked me in there? I can't understand that guy sometimes. Okay. I _never_ understand him, but that's besides the point.

There's something going on here, in this hospital. Something weird. I'm not sure I like it. Of course, it could just be because of all the Halloween fundraiser. There are so many different things going on today. In the waiting room there's a bake sale going on, so I know a lot of the staff (and by that I of course mean Dr Kelso) keep sneaking off downstairs for cupcakes. That being said, this is the first hospital fundraiser to this extent that there's ever been, so it's taking a bit of getting used to.

You know how you have those moments where no matter where you look, you can't find who you're looking for? I'm having one of those. I can't find Dr Cox anywhere. Oh, there's Carla, leaving the second floor bathroom. Why the hell would she go to the second floor bathroom? Everyone knows they're a no-go zone. The Janitor hasn't cleaned them in years. Hell, even Janitor would tell you to avoid them.

"Hey, Carla!" I say when I catch up to her.

She jumps when I speak to her. "Jeez! You scared me!"

"What are you doing in the second floor bathrooms?"

"I, uh… why do people normally go to the bathroom?"

"Good point." Although I'm not entirely sure that was the honest answer. "Hey, have you seen Dr Cox anywhere?"

"Last I heard, he was at Mr Hannigan's room."

"Thanks. And how pissed is Elliot that I kinda stood her up for lunch?"

Carla scoffs. "Kinda? She was sitting there for a half hour waiting on your sorry ass and you didn't show. Oh, she's pissed all right."

"There was nothing I could do! The Janitor locked me in a supply closet!"

"Oh, boo freak- " She furrows her eyebrows. "Which supply closet did he lock you in?"

"The one round the corner."

"And who let you out?"

"Alyssa and her friend. They were doing inventory or something apparently?"

Carla looks relieved. "That was smart."

"What?"

"Nothing," Carla says quickly. "Oh, by the by, there's going to be a costume judging in the cafeteria at 3pm. You entering?"

"Hells yeah. You?"

"Nope. We don't have Izzy. It just doesn't look as cute without Baby Bear."

"That's true." A few seconds of silence. "Look, if you see Elliot before I do, tell her I'm sorry about lunch, would you?"

"Yeah, I will."

"Thank you." I look at Carla (more specifically the weird look she has on her face, like she knows something I don't) for a couple of more seconds before running off down the corridor.

So I figure the faster I run, the less Dr Cox will beat me up. Just keep running, just keep running….

SMACK!

And that was my falling flat on the ground. What the hell did I just trip up on? I glance opver my shoulder and see… a mop. I see a goddamn mop.

Cue most scathing voice I can possible manage. "Janitor."

* * *

_2.45pm…_

"So, Mr Hannigan, you'll be getting exploratory surgery in a few hours to see if we can figure out the cause of your pain. My good friend Dr Turk here will be your surgeon."

"Thank you, Dr Dorian," Turk says.

As you may have already guessed, we still haven't figured the cause of his arm pain. Turk is now explaining the details of the surgery to Mr Hannigan. He's speaking in a lot of surgical lingo. Not really my area of expertise. I'm only here for when and if Mr Hannigan gives his consent for the surgery. I have basically tuned out of the conversation for now.

It's funny what you notice when you're just glancing out the door. Like the Janitor dancing with his mop. I worry about that guy sometimes. He's in the middle of the corridor, dancing what look likes like a full-blown tango with his mop and he's acting like it's no big deal. I think he might very well be clinically insane. How he hasn't been admitted yet to a psych ward by now, I will never know.

I think Turk is concluding his surgery speech, so I better tune back in.

"So, Mr Hannigan, do you have any questions about the surgery?" Turk says.

Mr Hannigan seems to think. "Uh…when can I get it?"

"Does that mean you're giving your consent for the surgery?" I ask enthusiastically

Turk looks at me funny. "Uh, JD that's usually what the patient means he asks when can he get the surgery," he says quietly yet scornfully. "Mr Hannigan, we can schedule for surgery this afternoon."

"Are you going to be dressed like that? Because part of the deal here is I get to tell my friends that I was operated on by a bear."

"You really think your friends will buy that?" Turk asks.

"Sure. I'll tell them when they're drunk; they'll believe anything!"

Turk and I both laugh.

"Well, we have to go," I say. "We'll be back in time for your surgery."

"I'll see you two then!" Mr Hannigan says.

Turk makes a circle around his head. "I'll be the guy with the bear ears on."

"Awesome."

Turk and I leave the room.

"So, you going for the costume competition?" Turk asks me as we walk down the corridor.

"Yeah. You?"

Turk frowns. "Nope. Carla won't let me."

"Sucks to be you, man," I say smugly. "See I don't have to ask for permission to enter a costume competition, because I'm not whipped."

"Yet."

"What?"

"Yet. You're not whipped _yet. _But give it a few weeks…"

"Shut up!"

Turk laughs. "You know it's gonna happen!"

"Yeah, well… shut up." Sometimes I just can't think of a good comeback. "You know, we haven't gone out in ages. We should tear it up once more before I reached 'whipped' status."

"Yeah we should," Turk says. "How about this Saturday?"

"That's sudden."

"Yeah. Well, you don't have much time to spare!" Turk quips.

"Ha ha. Very funny."

"I do what I do," Turk says with his usual cocky attitude. "So we on for Saturday?"

"We are _so_ on!"

Footsteps quickly approach us from behind. "Excuse me, kinda in a real hurry here." Alyssa Reid walks by us, carrying three large bottles' (I'm talking like the two litre bottle of Sunny Delight.)

"Dude!" Turk says. "What's with all the juice?"

Alyssa rolls her eyes. "Impromptu Sunny D chugging contest. Who ever can gargle it the longest wins. Cafeteria in half an hour; be there or be square." I don't know what's wrong with her, but she seems really annoyed about something. As she walks away down she mumbles something angrily, but I can't make out what it is.

"Dude, what's with her?" Turk asks.

"I really don't know," I answer. " Dude, I think the Janitor is out to get me."

Turk sighs and rolls his eyes. "Here we go again…"

"No seriously! I think he's really out to get me today!"

"Like he was out to get you every other day you've been working at Sacred Heart," Turk sarcastically says.

"He was!" Why does nobody believe me about Janitor? "Take today. He has locked me in a supply closet, he superglued my fingers to the keyboard, and he tripped me up with a wayward mop!"

"Yeah, yeah. And no doubt Dr Cox will be nice to you today and Carla won't kick my ass when I go home for not emptying the dishwasher before I left for work this morning."

I lower my eyebrows. "That probably won't end well for you."

"It will not."

"Is that why she's so pissy today?"

Turk shrugs. "Wouldn't know. I haven't seen her all day. It seems my wife has been too busy dealing with yours. I wonder what's going on there."

At least it's not just me who has noticed the weirdness. "So we heading into the canteen for the competition?"

"Damn right!"

Walking through the door, I notice that the room is extremely busy for the size of room it is. So many people are dressed up it's unreal. At one end of the room there is… what I can only assume is supposed to be a slutty pumpkin. Okay. To the other side there are some of the volunteers who I think are dressed up as zombies. Because that won't scare the patients. And walking towards Turk and me is a vam-

"Oh my god!" I say in a deep tone that was much louder than I expected it to be.

Turk looks at me. "What?"

"Janitor has dressed up as Dr Acula!" I shriek. "You bastard!" I curse when Janitor is standing in front of me.

Janitor plasters on his best oblivious face. "What?"

"Oh don't play coy with me," I snarl. "You know what you've done."

Janitor shakes his head. "I really don't know what you're talking about, pal."

Lower eyebrows. "You copied my costume! How did you even have time to put it all together? It took me a month to get everything ready!"

Janitor gets defensive. "It took me two months!"

"It did not!"

While Janitor and I are arguing, one of the volunteers who is organising the costume contest walks over to us. "Okay, what the hell is going on here?"

"He copied my costume!" Janitor and I say simultaneously. "I did not! Stop it! You stop! Stop speaking at the same time as me!" I'm never going to win this one.

The volunteer scoffs and rolls her eyes. "Well only one of you can enter the contest as the vampire. Which one of you thought of the costume first?"

"I did!" Once again, Janitor and I are talking at the same time. "That's a lie! You did not! I did! You lie! It was my idea!"

Turk raises his hand to interrupt. "Uh, I think the only way we're going to resolve this is if you choose which one of these idiots enters the contest."

Volunteer sighs. "Fine, both of you argue your case. Dr Dorian, you go first."

Ha. This will win me it! "Well, my costume is based on a character I created years ago. He's Dr Acula. You see, he's a doctor who is also a vampire. I created him for a screenplay. I'd let you read it but someone," (evil glare in Janitor's direction) "set it on fire. So I should get to enter the competition because _I_ created the character."

The volunteer nods. "Okay. And Janitor, why should you get into the contest."

Janitor takes his wallet from his pocket. "Because I'll give you fifty bucks if you let me in."

"Deal," the volunteer says, taking the fifty bucks.

"Hey!" I protest. "You can't do that."

Janitor smirks. "Just did."

"And you can't take his money!"

The volunteer shrugs. "Yeah I can. I need the money." She just walks away.

I turn to Turk with a bewildered look on my face. "Did you see that?"

"I did," he says weirdly.

"_Now_ do you believe that he's out to get me?"

"Yeah, okay," Turk says quietly. "I believe you."

"I need a plan to stop him from killing me!"

Turk furrows his brows in thought. "Okay, here's what we're going to do. He's going to be up here for an hour at least. And even if he isn't, there is no way in hell he'll attack you when you're in a patient's room. At least… not a conscious one. So, first of all, go down to surgery and book Mr Hannigan in for his surgery, and then just spend as much time as you can in patients' rooms. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Now, as long as I can, I'll stay up here, and I'll page you if he looks like he's about to leave and kill you."

"Thanks, man. You've always got my back."

"You know it!"

Neither Turk nor I move, but there's an uneasy silence between us.

Then suddenly I hug Turk. "I love you, Chocolate Bear

"I hope I see you again, man," Turk says hugging me back.

The manhug last for a couple of seconds, before we break it clumsily. We both look down at the ground, both of us mumbling disjointedly.

"I've got a… surgery," Turk mumbles ineptly as he walks away.

"I've got… nothing."

That was awkward.

* * *

So, it turns out that staying in conscious patients' rooms is more difficult than first though. I never realised how many of my patients were comatose. That can't be good. And even if I did find a conscious patient, chances are they were delirious. Sucks.

So now I'm heading towards Mr Hanngian's room. I need to wish him luck for his surgery. It's in an hour, but since I should be upstairs kicking somebody's ass at a 'keeping Sunny D in your mouth for as long as you can' contest. I know, it sounds _really_ crap, but I've got to win at _something_ today, especially since Janitor stole my place in the costume competition, which I _am_ still bitter about, by the by.

Speaking of the Janitor, I'm sneaking round every corner and talking a good hard look before going anywhere. I can't trust that he won't sneak out from somewhere and attack me. And I know Turk said he would page me if Janitor left, but I know there are sugar-free cupcakes around that area so I can't trust him not to get totally distracted. Luckily, there has been no sign of the Janitor, and I've made it to Mr Hanngian's room.

"Hello, Mr Hannigan!" I say cheerily as I walk into the room. "How you feeling? Nervous about the surgery?"

"No way, man," Mr Hanngian smiles. "I know Dr Turk is the best."

"Yeah, he's not with me."

Mr Hannigan's smile falters slightly. "Okay, I'm a little nervous."

"That's perfectly normal," I say, in my comforting doctor tone. "But you should know that this is a relatively safe surgery and Dr Turk is an amazing surgeon."

Mr Hannigan lowers his eyebrows slightly. "He's not here, you know."

Frown. "I know." I miss my SCB.

"So how did you get on in the costume contest?"

"It was a disaster," I sigh. "The stupid janitor copied my costume and stole my place in the contest!"

"Well, that sucks."

"Yeah! I think he's been out to get me today. Not that he isn't out to get me every day. But he's been worse today."

"Uh… do you know why?"

I cringe slightly. "I may have inadvertently insulted his Frankenstein costume by asking him why he didn't bother dressing up."

Mr Hannigan shakes his head. "That wasn't smart."

"You'd think after eight years of having him kick my ass on a daily basis, I'd learn to really think before I said anything to him, wouldn't you?" whines I. "It's not just him that's acting weird, though. Have you noticed that?"

Mr Hannigan shrugs. "Well, you don't expect all the staff to be in fancy dress when you walk into hospital, I'll give you that."

"We go a little nuts at Halloween. But it's not just Janitor who's acting weird."

"I suppose you're right," Mr Hannigan says, nodding. "That Latina nurse, I think you guys call her Mamma Bear, she talks really quickly in Spanish a lot. And she seems stressed out all the time, but I don't know if that's a normal thing."

I laugh just slightly. "She can be like that sometimes. Just sometimes though; I think she's going through a whole week's supply of craziness just for today."

"Wow." Mr Hannigan sounds vaguely surprised. "Something kinda big must be happening today."

"I wonder what, though. I hope nothing too serious. I think my girlfriend might be in on it too, I haven't seen her all day. Which is probably a good thing. She's gonna kick my ass when we get home."

"Why?"

"I accidentally stood her up at lunch," I answer shamefully.

"Quick question, how can you 'accidentally' stand someone up?"

"By being locked in a supply closet by the Janitor. I swear, this day could _not_ get any worse."

Mr Hannigan raises his eyebrows. "Oh, I think it probably could."

"What? Do you know something I don't? Why would you say that?" Was that too many questions to ask in a ten second period?

"It's just this hunch I have," Mr Hannigan says dismissively. "It's probably nothing."

"Fair enough."

I glance over at the wheeled table that is situated over Mr Hannigan's hospital bed. There's a cell phone on it. Hmm, that's odd. It really doesn't look like Mr Hannigan's type of cell. For starters it's a dark pink flip phone. Now, I know it's sexist to imply that a guy _couldn't_ have a dark pink flip phone, but you know. Looks familiar though.

"Mr Hannigan, do you mind if I ask whose cell phone that it?"

"Yeah, it's that volunteers… Uh… god, what was her name? Long blonde hair, kinda short… dressed up as the fairy. She accidentally left it here."

"Oh, that's Alyssa Reid's phone." I knew it looked familiar! "You know what, I'll take it to her."

"She'll probably come back here for it though. Maybe you should just leave it here?"

"No, it's okay. I'll take it. If Alyssa stops by, will you tell her I have this please?"

Mr Hanngian smiles. "Sure thing."

Suddenly there's a very loud, very frightening whistle. "Newbie!" Dr Cox says forcefully. "Jeez, what kind of girl hides in a patients' room because she's afraid the custodial staff are going to get her? Why don't you grow a pair? Come on, there are more patients for you to see, so move your ass. " And just as quickly he arrived, Dr Cox leaves the room.

Roll eyes. "I guess that's my cue to go. I just wanted to wish you well for your surgery. Someone will be down in about fifteen minutes to take you there. I'll be back to check on you after."

"Thank you Dr. Dorian… slash Acula."

"Nice."

As I walk out of the room, I see Michael walking towards me, looking down at his own cell.

"Hey, Michael," I say.

Michael looks up from his cell. "Hey. By any chance have you seen Alyssa anywhere?"

"Actually, exactly who I was going to ask you about. She left her cell phone in Mr Hannigan's room. Would you give this to her when you see her?" I ask, handing him the phone.

"Yeah, sure," Michael answers. "But every time I try speaking to her she seems to have somewhere else to be .I think there's something going on because her and Kate keep talking really quickly and quietly and whenever I go near them they suddenly change the subject."

"Weird. Carla does the same thing."

"That is odd.. Uh, so, I'll give this to Lys if I see her," Michael says, as he walks away.

"Thanks."

A few seconds later, my pager beeps. It's… god only knows who it is. Probably one of the volunteers borrowing a nurse's pager.

_Sunny D chugging contest starting in ten minutes. If you want to enter, be there._

Okay then. To the cafeteria I go.

* * *

This maybe wasn't such a good idea. Turns out a lot of people weren't not keen on a Sunny D chugging contest. They're desperately trying to find me a new opponent. I'm getting the feeling that this was a very sudden and late idea. I also get the feeling that the person (or people) who created the idea isn't here to organise things. It is quite .literally chaos here. It's really a shame. The volunteers are trying so hard to make everything come together and work but everything's so disorganised. You'd never think it was so difficult to find two stopwatches in a hospital, would you?

Oh, wait a second. They've got the stopwatches. And one of the volunteers is walking towards me.

"Dr Dorian," the kid says when he is within hearing distance of me. "I'm pleased to say we've found you an opponent."

"Awesome!" It's only taken them forty-five minutes. "Who is it?"

The volunteer points to the other side of the room. "It's Janitor."

As I look, the Janitor plasters a great big (almost torturing) smile on his face, and gives a thumbs up.

_Oh crap._

* * *

Turns out the volunteers are quite quick at getting things organised when they've invited the janitor to torture me. As if he hasn't done that enough already today. I swear, he must have used up an entire month's quota of JD torturing just in today. But at least it's nearly over. An hour left of my shift. Fantastic. Then I can get away from Janitor kicking my ass all day and hopefully see Elliot. That is, of course, providing she isn't kicking my ass all night because I stood her up for lunch. I'm gonna pay for that…

Hold the phone. Janitor has been kicking my ass all day. But that doesn't mean I can't beat him here. I'm going into this thing with completely the wrong attitude. If I believe I can beat him, then I can beat him. Power of positive thinking, Dorian. Power of positive thinking.

The volunteer who is taking charge of the contest stands on one of the tables. "Ladies and gentleman-"

That's right; there's an audience for this thing. Crap. There's a group of custodial staff hanging around at the back of the caf.

"We'd like to welcome you to the Sacred Heart Sunny D contest. We'd like to invite Dr Dorian and Janitor up here to take their places for the contest."

As I walk up towards the front of the room, I can feel the butterflies fluttering more frequently in my stomach. Dear god, the Janitor's going to kill me. And even if I win, the custodial staff at the back of the room will hunt me down and kill me just for winning! There is no way this can end well for me. What happened to the power of positive thinking, Dorian? Yeah, that went to hell.

When I'm standing in my place for the contest, Janitor smiles sadistically.

"You don't scare me, Lurch," I snarl, in my best fearless tone. I don't know how well it worked.

Janitor shrugs carelessly. "Sure you're not."

I tune back in to what the volunteer is saying. "So the rules of the contest are: 1) Keep the Sunny D in your mouth as long as you can. 2) Do not spit out or swallow the Sunny D. 3) If you do either of those things, you _will_ be disqualified." The volunteer turns to look at Janitor and me. "We clear?"

Janitor nods. "Clear as mud."

Give Janitor a weird look. How can something be clear as mud? Mud isn't clear!

"We're good," I say.

"Okay. So after three, you're going to put the Sunny Delight in your mouth. You ready?"

Janitor looks at me. He doesn't seem to be bothered. "I'm ready. Are you?"

I stare him right in the eye. "Oh, I'm ready."

"We'll see about that."

What does that mean? Relax, he's just trying to scare you.

"After three," shouts the volunteer. "One. Two. Three!"

Janitor and I both throw back the little glasses of Sunny D. Janitor seems relaxed. He's standing there all nonchalant and calm, swirling the Sunny D round in his mouth, which I have to admit sounds pretty disgusting.

Now, I think I've just uncovered a possible flaw in this contest. It's extremely easy. Hmm, my Sunny D tastes weird. Anyway, as I was saying, this contest is really easy. It could go on for hours. I mean… holy crap, what's burning my mouth? Is that.. is that Tabasco sauce I'm tasting? Oh dear god it is. Okay, okay. Your mouth could quite literally be on fire, but don't show signs of weakness. You could still _win_ this.

Janitor looks at me casually ands nods his head as if to say 'How you doing?' That evil bastard.

You can't let him see any signs of weakness. Just keep the voice inside you head calm.

…

OH MY GOD IT BURNS SO MUCH!!

Is that really keeping the voice inside you head calm? Seriously?

Why did I not think of this? Why was I so damn naïve that I thought the Janitor wouldn't try to sabotage my attempt in this contest? It was always too easy. JD, you are officially an idiot. You really should reattach that Idiot Handle Janitor was you fond of teasing you about.

Ooooowwwww….. My mouth burns so much. Just keep it together, Dorian. You can maybe still win this.

Why is time passing so slowly?!

Janitor is just standing there coldly and collectedly. Even though he's swishing un-Tabasco Sauce-contaminated liquid in his mouth, I can tell he has an evil smirk. I hate him.

Oh my god, my hands are starting to sweat. And my forehead. Now I know how Ted feels every day when someone talks to him.

I think Janitor can sense my struggle. His smirk is getting larger and larger and there's more sadism appearing in his eyes by the second.

Holy crap it hurts so much!! It's burns, it _burns_!! It feels like an bomb has exploded in my mouth. It stings so much and…

I CAN'T TAKE IT ANY MORE!!

I rush to the nearest bucket, spit out the flaming contents of my mouth then run out of the cafeteria to find something preferably ice cold to extinguish my tongue.

As I run, I can here people in the cafeteria cheering.

"I'm the King!" Janitor exclaims gleefully.

I need ice cream or something!

* * *

An hour it has taken me to calm my mouth down. I'm not kidding. A whole freaking hour and even then it's still not 100 per cent. Janitor must have put, like, a _gallon_ of Tabasco in that cup or something! I've tried ice cream, ice cubes, cold milk, cold water and it's still a little bit sore. I think my tongue is physically singed. Right now I'm just finishing a little tub of Ben and Jerry's. I had to go to three convenience stores to find it, but dear god, it was worth it.

As I stare at my ice creamy new best friend, that Janitor swaggers over to me, looking pretty happy with himself. "You know, I gotta you that was a good fight you put up. Who knew you could last so long with that much Tabasco in your mouth?" He asks rhetorically, chuckling at the end of his question.

"Why? Just… why?"

Janitor takes a seat in the chair opposite mine. "It was nothing personal," he answers. "Okay, maybe it was a little personal."

"It's _always_ personal."

"That's true. That's very true." Janitor shrugs and nods. "But just so you know, it wouldn't have been nearly as bad if I hadn't been asked and paid to make your life a misery today."

"Wait, you were _paid _to make my life a misery?" Who would be so cruel as to do that?"

"Well, actually, I was paid to _distract _you with any means possible, so I took that to mean torture you by any means possible." Janitor starts laughing. "And I was _not_ going to miss an opportunity like that!"

"But you torment me for free every day!" I say incredulously. "Why would you need to take money for that?!"

Janitor furrows his eyebrows. "Hey!" he says angrily. "I've got a kid and a three-fingered wife to support on a Janitor's salary! I need all the extra cash I can get. What make you think-"

"Do we really need to go through this _every_ time?" I ask, interrupting his tirade.

He smiles and laughs. "Yeah, you're right. The money was just an added bonus."

"So…" I say, dragging out the vowel sound. "When you glued my fingers to the keyboard, you were paid to do that?"

Janitor seems to think. "Yes," he answers.

"And you locked me in the supply closet, you were paid for that too."

"I was."

"And when you copied my Vampire costume?"

"Yeah."

"Tripped me up with your broom?"

"Yeah."

"Put Tabasco sauce in my drink?"

Janitor giggles and answers. "Yeah."

"You were paid to do all that?"

"Yep," Janitor grins.

"So it wasn't because I insulted your costume."

"No, it was definitely for the money," Janitor responds seriously.

"But who paid you, and why?"

"You'll find out soon enough, my friend," Janitor says as he stands from his seat. "You'll find out soon enough."

"Can't you just tell me?" I ask to his back.

Janitor turns around again to face me. "Nope. Think of it as my last act of torture." He begins to walk away again. "Have a good night," he says, waving as he goes.

Sigh. "Yeah, you too," I begrudgingly reply. And as if by magic, the second that Janitor leaves the waiting room, my pager beeps. It's Dr Cox.

_Laura, Mr Hannigan is out of surgery and lucid. Get your girly ass up there and talk to him._

Hopefully the one good thing from today will be that they've figured out what's causing his arm pain.

* * *

Unfortunately, my optimism was unfounded. Turk couldn't find any physical cause for his pain. I've just told Mr Hannigan that we're going to keep trying him on physiotherapy and stronger painkillers and hope that it goes away on its own.

"I'm really sorry, man," I say sympathetically. "I wish I'd had better news for you."

Mr Hannigan looks disappointed, but he's still smiling. "That's okay. I know you guys all did the best you could."

"We're going to keep you in overnight and send you home tomorrow. I'll come and speak to you before you go," I say as I stand up. "See you tomorrow."

"You heading home?" Mr Hannigan asks.

"Yeah. It's been a long day."

"That sucks," Mr Hannigan replies. "Good luck then."

"What do you mean good luck?"

"Uhh… well you have been going on all day about how your girlfriend is going to kill you for standing her up."

"Oh, right enough," I laugh. "Well good night!"

"Night."

I walkout of Mr Hanngian's room to the nurses' station just across from his door. As I put his chart back in the holder, I feel sad that we couldn't figure out the reason for his arm pain. But that's just how life is sometimes, especially in a hospital. Sometimes you can't figure that cause of someone's pain. Sometimes you can't figure out why a friend has been weird with you.

I look down the hall to where Alyssa is standing talking to Michael.

"Hey," she says quietly.

"Hey," Michael replies. "I have your phone," he says, handing it to her. "And also, your coat."

"Thanks," Alyssa smiles. "Look, I know I've been really weird with you today. It was nothing personal. It's that I quite literally have not stopped since we all got her this morning and it's… just been one of those days when the stress levels have been waaaaaay through the roof. So, I'm sorry I've been such a bitch today."

"And I'm sorry I kept bugging you. I should have noticed you were stressed out."

"We cool?" Alyssa asks.

"We're cool," Michael replies, but Alyssa still looks apologetic. "Wanna hug it out?"

Alyssa smiles. "Okay then."

The two friends hug. Cute.

"So, you want to tell me about this crappy day you've been having then?" Michael asks once the hug is broken.

"Only if you're walking home while I tell you."

"Sure thing," Michael answers, smiling at Alyssa.

Then the two kids walk off.

Okay, so maybe you _can_ figure out why a friend has been weird with you all day. But sometimes you can't figure out why someone would bribe your nemesis to torture you all day, or what the hell some people have been up to all day that has left half the hospital confused.

"JD," a voice says.

I turn around to see Carla standing behind me.

"Can I talk to you upstairs in the cafeteria for a little while?" she asks.

"Uh yeah, sure."

* * *

The canteen is much less chaotic than it was just an hour or two ago. In fact, if it weren't for a few 'Happy Halloween' banners and other little decorations, you would never know that there had been anything going on here. Of course, there is also the fact that all of the staff is in fancy dress to give that away, but that's besides the point.

Carla has just sat back down from getting us both bottles of water. She barely spoke a word on the way up here.

"Here you go," she says as she slides the water bottle across the table to me.

"Thanks," I respond. "So what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Okay, first of all, you didn't stand Elliot up for lunch today."

"I didn't?"

"No you didn't."

"So she's not going to kick my ass when I get home?"

Carla scoffs. "Well, I didn't say that. I… uh… I have something really important to tell you, but first you have to promise me that you're not going to completely flip out."

This is really tense. I could do with a little sip of water. "Okay, I won't flip out." Then I take a sip of my water.

For some reason, Carla waits until I swallow my water before speaking. Then she exhales loudly, as if she if getting some courage together.

"Elliot's pregnant."


	16. AN

**Sorry. I forgot that if you commented on my AN for chapter 16, it won't let you review the actual chapter 16, so I'm putting this back up. Apologies. :) Thanks for being so understanding with my laptop problems and I apologise that it took me so long to update. **


	17. My Reaction

**AN: Apologies for the length of time since the last update, but like I said my laptop died. I've had it fixed now, fortunately. Thanks for being so understanding. And I'm hoping you'll realise by the end of the chapter why, aside from laptop problems, it took me so long to complete this. Thanks. :)**

Here's one thing I never expected to have to do in my life: Tell my husband's best friend (who also just happens my best friend's boyfriend) that his girlfriend his pregnant. But that is what I just did.

Now, that, the actual telling your best friend's boyfriend of the pregnancy, isn't the difficult part. The difficult part is the reaction that follows. Of course, that is dependent on there being a reaction. Because right now there is none. Nada. Just silence, and a completely frozen face. I am not kidding, JD's face has not changed from a completely neutral expression in the last minute since I told him about Elliot. The silence is killing me.

"JD," I say quietly. I'm afraid I'll startle him if I speak too loudly. "Did you hear what I said?"

JD moves his head to look at me. He's still sporting the same frozen facial expression, but at least that's some sort of reaction. "I uh…" he disjointedly utters. "I might need you to repeat it again."

"Elliot's pregnant."

JD nods. I think he has actually registered what I said this time. "Uh…I…_How_, exactly?"

Okay, I know the guy has just had a baby-sized bombshell dropped on him, but I can't _not_ make a comment here. "JD, you're a doctor. Do you _really_ need me to go into the mechanics?"

"No!" He says defensively. Okay, maybe it wasn't the best time to make a comment. "I mean… when did Elliot find out?"

"Just today. That's why everyone has been acting so weird today. She didn't want you to know anything about it until she was completely sure. Plus she was sort of flipping out a bit. Actually, she was flipping out a _lot._ And she knew if she spoke to you at all you'd know something was going on."

"How did she react?"

"More vocally than you," I say, chuckling just slightly. "She was really freaked out, shocked. I mean, you couldn't understand most of what she said she was freaking out that much. Which is completely understandable. She's calmed a lot now. Last time I saw her she was more in a shocked silence. I think she'd exhausted herself."

"Is Elliot still here?"

"No, she went home about an hour ago."

"Right," JD responds quietly. "I should go home soon too."

"Yeah. Look when you home, just don't completely freak. She's got this crazy idea in her head that you're going to hate her or something stupid like that."

"Why the hell would she think that?"

"She's just… she just feels like she's had the wind knocked out of her. She didn't expect to discover she was pregnant today."

"No kidding."

"Just go home and talk to her, JD."

JD stands up from the seat. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm going."

"Okay. Good," I say as he walks away.

"Carla?"

I look up. "Yeah?"

"Thanks."

I'm not sure exactly what he's thanking me for. "It's no problem."

He leaves the cafeteria.

That went well, I suppose. But I have to say, he seems awfully calm for someone who was just told he's gonna be a father.

* * *

_I would say I feel like an evil bitch today, but then I would be lying. You see, thanks to me (and Michael, I have to give the guy some of the blame), Alyssa is dressed up as a fairy. A very pink, very sparkly fairy, complete with glitter, pink fairy wings, a pink tutu and pink ballet pumps with ribbons that tie up round her calves. Needless to say, she was ever so slightly annoyed with me when we first arrived. She's moved on from that now. Well, sort of…_

"_Damn shoes ribbons," Alyssa scathingly says as she kneels down to re-tie the ribbons. "This is your fault."_

"_Yeah, so it is"_

_Aly stand up again and glares at me. "Your sarcasm can be so contemptuous sometimes."_

_  
"As can yours."_

"_Well, as long as we're clear," Alyssa mockingly retorts, before exaggeratingly smiling. _

_You know, people could think we're such bitches to each other, but really we're just having a laugh._

"_Okay, so we have the money from nearly everybody on that floor," Alyssa says, looking down at her clipboard with the list of names of people who owe money. " And I need to mark JD down as 'ask again at lunch'. I think we're done here. Wanna head to the second floor?" She asks, ask she hits the elevator down button._

"_Yeah."_

_The elevator doors slide open and we both step in .As the elevator descends, Alyssa asks this question._

"_Hey, have you seen Michael at all today? I haven't seen him since I got here."_

"_No, I haven't seen him," I answer. "Why? Do you like him or something?"_

_Alyssa rolls here eyes. "Are you still on that? It's been, like, six weeks already. Drop it."_

"_Nope," I say smugly. "Not until I'm proved right"_

_There's a ding noise, and the elevator doors open._

"_Well, you're going to be waiting for a very long time then." Alyssa looks down at her hands. "How the hell did I have some much glitter on my hands?" She asks nobody in particular. "The glitter is confined to the wings that are strapped to my back."_

"_It gets everywhere."_

"_I'm gonna wash my hands before we collect any more money. Get some of the glitter to disappear."_

"_Dude, you don't want to do that," I state suddenly._

_Alyssa shoots me a weird look. "What?"_

"_It's the second floor bathroom," I explain. "Nobody ever uses them. The Janitor tells you not to, and he should know. He cleans all these places. Or at least he's supposed to." It's a well-known fact that Janitor doesn't really do a hell of a lot of work around here._

"_You're right," Alyssa frowns. "You know what, how bad can they really be? If they're really as bad as Janitor says they are, then like, Kelso would have kicked his ass by now."_

"_Maybe it's just like a hospital myth that you don't go in there." I love philosophy. "Maybe it's just an old rumour that got really out of hand and now everyone thinks it's the gospel truth."_

"_Yeah," Alyssa enthusiastically says. "So… do we dare?" She asks, tilting her head slightly in the direction of the mysterious second floor bathroom door. _

_I nod. "We dare. But if I suffocate from the smell in here, I'm taking you down."_

_Cautiously, Alyssa pushes the door open just slightly. She turns to look at me. "No overpowering smells," she whispers. "Do we still dare?"_

"_We still dare."_

_Here goes," Alyssa mutters, before fully opening the door. _

_We walk in slowly, but stay close enough to the door that we can make a running exit if something, you know, jumps out and tries to attack us or something._

"_This doesn't seem scary at all," Alyssa states. "I wonder why nobody ever comes in here."_

_I'm less optimistic than Lys. "I'm still waiting for something to jump out and attack us."_

"_Irrational much?" Alyssa sarcastically retorts. She turns on one of the cold taps and begins scrubbing the glitter off her hands._

_It's quiet. Eerily quiet, except for the sound of high heels going along the corridor outside. _

"_You know what's really weird?" I say, breaking the eerie stillness. "There are no mirrors in here," I add, turning round to face the wall that the sinks are attached to. "You can't see if anyone's going to sneak up on you."_

Alyssa laughs. "Nobody's going to jump out on you," she says. But then she gives almighty scream. Which causes me to scream bloody murder even though I have no idea what's going on, but I'm terrified out of my mind. There's just a lot of screaming going on and I don't know who all is screaming, but there's more then two people screaming.

"_What the hell were you saying about nobody jumping out on us!" I scream, before I've had a chance to see what all the commotion is._

_Alyssa, however, has already turned around. "Holy frick! You scared the living crap out of me!" She shouts. _

_At least I know it's nobody standing behind us wielding an axe to kill us with. I turn around and see who scared, and I quote, 'the living crap' out of Alyssa. Oh, it's Dr Reid, otherwise known as Alyssa's aunt Elliot. "Isn't she one of the people who tells you not to use the second floor bathrooms?" I ask quietly, but I get no answer._

"_Are you okay?" Alyssa asks her aunt. "You look a bit freaked out."_

_Alyssa's aunt is answering, but I have no idea what she's saying. She's talking so fast that the rest of the world is hearing this: "Sosdjsdjfadfeqkrjheuid."_

_Okay, it's maybe not the rest of the world that's hearing that. Just Alyssa and me. But there's no way, that Alyssa could have understood that._

…

_What the hell? Not only did Alyssa appear to understand what her aunt said, but she's replying in the same quick speed that means I can't understand what's being said. They're having like a full-blown conversation in the language of gibberish. This is weird. It's like when you're on the French exchange programme and being stuck in room with people who are speaking French when you know no French! Weirdest. Conversation. Ever. And thankfully, it appears to be drawing to a close, because Alyssa is dragging me out of the bathroom by the arm. _

"_Holy crap," Alyssa mutters once we're outside._

"_Can I ask a really random question? Is there like some sort of Reid family secret language that the rest of the world is not aware of?"_

_Alyssa looks at me like I'm weird. "What?"_

"_Did you seriously understand any of that gibberish you were talking or listening to?"_

"_Yeah," Alyssa answers while nodding. "Come on, we need to find Carla," she says, walking towards the elevator._

_

* * *

_I hate post-ops, especially when you have to go and explain to someone why the surgery was unsuccessful. I just went to speak to Mr Hannigan. I wanted to personally apologise for the fact that the surgery I performed failed to find anything to explain his pain. He seems like a really nice guy. It makes me feel all the worse that I couldn't find anything.

I just have to write up one chart, and then I'm heading back to my building for trick-or-treating with Carla and Izzy. I'm just hoping we can pull the candy smuggling off. I've been looking forward to the candy for the last two weeks. You see, because of my diabetes, Carla only lets me have one candy bar every six months. But what she doesn't know is I _occasionally _sneak some chocolate when she's not around. …. Please don't tell her that.

Charts are so boring. So much information to write. Oh, at least there's JD walking round the corner. "Hey, man," I say once he's standing near me. "You got a minute?"

JD doesn't answer me.

"JD?"

He still doesn't answer me. Instead he just says: "Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god _oh my god!"_

What the _hell?_ "JD, you okay?" I ask.

He _still_ does not even register that I've spoken to him. JD just keeps walking by me along the corridor, repeating 'Oh my god' over and over and over again.

This is scaring me. I follow him as he walks in an almost trance-like state. This is weird. I've have never seen JD in this shape before. It's almost disturbing. "JD?" I say loudly, trying to get his attention. No coherent response. "Chocolate Bear? Is there anybody in there? Hellooooo?" Seriously, still no response. What in God's name has got into him? I have to stop this.

As JD continues to walk on, completely oblivious to anything and everything else going on around him, I really quickly overtake him, and stand directly in his path. I hold my hand out, acting like a stopper. Now all I have to do is wait.

"Oh my god," he mutters. He's like a broken record. The closer he gets to my hand, the louder he speaks. "Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god."

Just a few more steps until he hits my hand.

"Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my-"

That would be him smacking into my hand, which got his attention. He's now looking me straight in the eye.

"_Oh my god!"_ He says one last time before almost collapsing into a heap on the floor. Once he, for lack of a better word, untangles his limbs, he leans back again the wall.

"Dude?" I say cautiously, quietly. "Are you okay?" That was an _extremely_ stupid question to ask. Quite clearly he _isn't_ okay.

JD looks up at me. "I'm freaking out."

"I can see that," I flippantly say. Not the right tone to use. I should really think before I speak. "But why? What's happened?"

"I knocked up Elliot, that's what happened!" JD shouts at me.

Now, in a normal situation I'd be a little bit pissed off that he'd just yelled at me, but given what he's just said, I think I'll let that go.

"Elliot's pregnant?" I bet that has something to do with why I didn't see Carla all day.

JD exhales deeply, and then says, "Yep."

"Wow," I mutter, as I sit down next to Vanilla Bear. "No wonder you're freaking out."

"Yeah."

"You alright?"

"Well, I just walked through five floor of the hospital repeating 'oh my god', so I'm thinking no. I just… I can't believe this. You're going along fine one minute and the next, _bam_, your girlfriend's pregnant. Wouldn't you be freaking out?"

"Yeah, I would be," I answer. "How many weeks pregnant is Elliot?"

"I… actually don't know."

"How can you not know? Actually, you know what, don't answer that," I add, when I see the satisfied look on his face. "That's exactly how you've ended up in this situation!"

"Yeah," he says seriously, like he's getting back to reality.

"So how's Elliot taking it then? Happy as a clam?"

"Not according to Carla," JD answers quickly. "I haven't actually seen her yet. Elliot went home a while ago and I wanna get some of my freak out of the way before I go home."

"That's fair."

"Ever feel like you've had a house dropped on you?" JD asks quietly.

"Yeah," I answer. "But it'll be okay, man. Trust me," I say, as I stand up.

"Thanks."

"I need to go and finish of a chart, and Carla will kill me if I makes us late for the building's trick-or-treat. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

JD nods.

I take a few steps away before turning round again. "You gonna head home?"

JD looks up at me. "I'm gonna need a few minutes yet."

"Okay, then."

* * *

_You know how you get those days where you feel like something really big and important is going to happen? Well, I woke up feeling like that this morning, but I thought it was just because of the fundraiser._

"_So the situation is that your aunt thinks she's up the spout?" Kate asks. Luckily we're back in the elevator and there's no one else here._

"_I wouldn't exactly put it that way if you're talking to her, but yeah, that's the situation," I answer._

"_And she doesn't want JD to know that she thinks she's pregnant?" _

"_Nope."_

"_Right," Kate mutters. "So why are finding Carla?"_

"_I don't know. We're just told to find Carla, explain the situation, and then get Carla to go to the second floor," I say, just as the elevator doors slide open._

"_By the way, how the hell can you understand someone when they're talking so quickly? And how the hell can you talk so quickly?"_

"_Sixteen years of practice, my friend," I say semi-sarcastically. "Hey, Nurse Roberts?" I say, leaning on the nurses' station. "Do you know where Carla is?"_

"_She's in Mr Hanngian's room, 2112, honey," She says politely._

_  
"Thanks. Where's 2112?" I ask Kate._

"_Right over there," she answers, pointing to the room opposite the nurses' station._

_  
"How did I not see that?" I mutter to myself, as I knock on the door of Mr Hannigan's room. It looks like Carla is the only one in the room. Well, aside from the patient. "Hey, Momma Bear," I say stepping into the room. "We kinda have a bit of a situation."_

"_Oh, what kind of situation?" JD sticks his head around the corner of the room._

_Oh, crap!! "Um…" I need a way to get around this. This is not going to end well. "I…" Wait a second. I could speak Spanish here. JD doesn't understand Spanish? Or does he? I can't remember!! What the hell, it's the only option I've got here! _

_Okay, here goes…_

_

* * *

_

I am a bad person. Really, I am. Around about 5pm, I was told that my girlfriend was pregnant. About half an hour after that, I said I was going to go home and talk to Elliot. It's now 1.30am, and I haven't been home yet. See. Bad person. And I know as soon as I walk in there she's going to murder me. She probably should. I deserve it.

It seems like Elliot won't be the only one to kill me, not if the voicemails sent to my phone are anything to go by. Take this one, sent by Carla:

'_Okay, I know you're freaking out a bit, but it's 9.30. Don't you think it's time to go home now?"_

Or this one from Turk:

"It's now 10.45. Dude. Go. Home. You want to know what Carla has threatened to do to me? She's threatened to rip my balls off. My balls. And I haven't even done anything. Imagine what she's gonna do to you if you don't go home. And soon."

Or, there's this one from Alyssa, left at 11.52pm:

"Dude. Seriously?!"

Enough said it seems.

It's not that I just haven't gone home. I wanted to, really. But every time I thought about going, I started freaking out again. So I stayed around the hospital for an hour or so more than I intended to, then I started walking home, got about a quarter of the way there, started freaking out again, about-turned and headed for the bar. I didn't drink though. Honestly. I just sat in a booth in the back, just thinking and trying to get the courage together to go back home. Once again, started walking, got some of the way there before chickening out and about turning. This time I ended up at the mall. Don't ever ask me why I ended up in the mall, but I just followed where my legs took me. And that place was the mall.

As it turns out, you can spend a lot of time in a mall trying to distract yourself from going home. I should know; I just practiced that skill. I was just wandering in and out of random shops not really looking at anything in particular, but I was just looking around any and every shop what was still open. Who knew the mall would stay open until midnight? Anyway.

As part my aimless wandering, I somehow ended up in a baby store. Yes, yes, the irony is not lost on me. And no, that was not good for the freak out when I realised where I was. For whatever reason, I had ended up in the clothing section, and my eye went to this tiny little onesie. So cute, it was. It was white with little pink rims around the cuff, the collar and at the feet, and there was writing on it. Do you want to know what the writing said? _My daddy loves me._ I must have stared at that thing for ages, because I was still staring at it when the assistant walked over to tell me that the store was closing and I needed to leave. And that's how I ended up here, sitting outside Elliot's front door, trying to pluck up the courage to go in there even though I know she'll kill me as soon as I walk through there. Needless to say, I got a taxi home to make sure I didn't about turn and run again.

That onesie. I managed to get the shop assistant to stay open a few extra minutes to let me buy it. I just thought that maybe I could give to Elliot to show that despite the fact I'm still completely flipping out about this (and probably will be for at least the next eighteen years), I'm… I don't know, I'm just _here._

Okay. I need to go in. Here goes.

I open the door slowly. I don't know why. Maybe I just think that Elliot will hurt me less if I don't startle her when I go in.

There doesn't seem to be any sign of life, except for one lamp that shines dimly in the corner.

"Elliot?" I say quietly, but get no response.

I walk further into the room and carefully look around in case Elliot or Carla or Turk or Alyssa (or all four of them) is waiting to beat me to a pulp with a baseball bat. Not that I wouldn't let them beat me up, but I'd like to have some warning first.

If that lamp is on, somebody must still be up. Or maybe somebody just forgot to switch that plug off. I'll do it. I walk quietly towards the lamp, going around the couch to get there. As I walk by the couch, my foot hits something, I don't know what it is. It's one of the couch cushions. I go to throw it back on the couch but I don't, because Elliot is lying asleep on it.

Crap.

So, I have two options here. I could either wake Elliot up, try to put her to bed so she isn't sleeping on the couch and risk her kicking my ass now, or I could just let her sleep and have her kick my ass in the morning. Maybe she's just dozing.

"Elliot? You awake?" I say.

No response. Nope, she's not dozing anyway.

I think there's a blanket on the bed. There is. I lift up the blanket and take it through to the living room and lay it over Elliot, then glance down at the tiny onesie. I guess that conversation will have to wait until tomorrow.

I'm a bad person.

* * *

_As it happens, finding Carla wasn't as bad as I'd initially thought it would be. You know, this is a big hospital; she's a small person. The math doesn't look particularly good there. And while it was easy to find Carla, I nearly cocked the whole thing up anyway. Best piece of advice I can give anybody who is involved in some weir find-somebody-but-you-can't-tell-someone-else-what's-going-on situation kinda like this: Always plan out a cover story. Any kind of story. Doesn't matter what language it is. Just a cover story of some form or other._

"_Second floor bathrooms," Carla mutters. "This must be bad."_

_I nod. "It's bad. In fact, it's rather disturbing. You should prepare yourself," I say as I open the door._

_Hmm. That's weird. It's silent in here. I was expecting some crying or some sounds of high heels pacing across the tiled floor, but there's nothing._

_I look over my shoulder to Kate. "It was the second floor bathrooms, right?"_

_Je suis answered by the sound of someone hurling._

"_Yep," Kate says. "It was indeed the second floor bathrooms."_

"_Elliot?" Carla says in a completely caring, motherly (that was an ironic word choice) tone. "Is that you, honey?"_

_There's a cough, and then my aunt answers. "Yeah."_

"_Okay, well we'll be waiting out here for you when you're ready," she says calmly. _

_Morning sickness must suck._

_When I look up Kate and more specifically Carla are looking at me with weird 'you did _not_ just say that' faces._

"_Did I really say that aloud?" I ask._

_They nod._

"_Oops." Note to self: Work on not saying every thought out loud. That skill comes in handy quite a lot of the time._

_A few seconds later, the toilet flushes. My aunt walks out of her cubicle and heads straight for the sink to rinse her face with cold water._

_Carla walks over to her. "Are you alright?"_

_I'm already in trouble for saying the thoughts in my head, so I won't bother saying that that is a stupid question._

"_No," Elliot replies. See. Stupid question. "I'm completely freaking out here. I don't know what I'm going to do, I don't know what I'm going to say to JD, I just don't know anything."_

"_Okay, first of all, just calm. Everything is going to be fine," Carla slowly says. "Right. How many tests have you taken?"_

"_I, uh… just the one."_

_Carla tilts her head to the side. "Honey, you know those things can be wrong. Do you have another test there?"_

_My auntie shakes her head. "No. I only had time to steal one out of the supply closet before one on the interns opened the door."_

_Then Carla walks over to where Kate and I are standing. "Here's twenty bucks," she says, taking (you guessed it) a twenty-dollar bill from her pocket. Who knew bear costumes had pockets? "One of you go to the pharmacy on 23__rd__ street and buy two pregnancy tests. And be discreet."_

"_That's gonna be difficult in these costumes," Kate quickly points out._

"_Well, wear a coat or something," Carla snaps. _

_As Carla is speaking (cough snapping cough) at us, my aunt looks down at her watch. "Crap," she mutters. "I have a consult in ten minutes. I need to pull myself together. Oh, God, I can't do this."_

"_Hey, hey," Carla says soothingly. "It's going to be fine. Just calm down. I'll come to the consult with you. It'll all be fine. Okay?"_

"_Okay."_

_Carla looks back to Kate and I. Her facial expression is a lot calmer than it was a couple of minutes ago. "You two go out first."_

_Kate and I follow Carla's instructions. We don't want to do anything else to make her snap at us again. It's not fun._

"_Okay, so how we gonna work this?" Kate asks once we're out of the bathroom._

_Sigh. "Okay, I'll go to the pharmacy. You cover for me."_

"_Okay. Good luck."_

_We walk off in the opposite directions._

_Oh god, this is going to go so badly._

_

* * *

_

I hate waking up, especially at four in the morning. You see, Muggins here forgot he had to work this morning so nearly jumped out of his skin. And trust me, there nothing like a 4A.M. alarm to wake you up and remind you that your girlfriend's pregnant and you did not go home and talk to her last night. And if that wasn't bad enough, you're now going to leave for work without speaking to her either.

If I wasn't a horrible person before, I most definitely am now.

What the hell can I really do? I can't wake her up at 4A.M.. She'll kill me. But if I go to work without talking to her she'll still kill me. Or worse, she'll get Carla to kill me. I'm completely caught between a rock and a hard place.

You know what. I think the kindest thing to do here would be to just let Elliot sleep. I have to leave like… _now _if I don't want to be late. I don't have time to talk now anyway. But I can't just leave. What can I do?

There is a pad of paper on the table…

Oh, sweet mother. That's just lame. But what other choice do I really have? I get the pad of paper and scribble down a note before walking out of the front door and heading to work.

I'm going to be dead by the end of the day, aren't I?

* * *

_This could not have been a worse day to be in fancy dress. Here I am, dressed like candy floss and now I have to walk outside in the real world dressed like this. Okay, I know, there really is a situation going on here, but still. At least I've got my coat. Except it's not really long. And the tutu, pink tights and the weird ballet-esque ribbon shoes that are the most embarrassing things, so really I may as well not bother with the coat. But it is quite cold outside, so I'll take the coat, even if I do have to hide my fairy wings somewhere they won't get lost._

_Once I've hidden my wings and collected my coat from the ground floor, I walk towards the out doors._

"_Hey, Lys!"_

_Crap. That's Michael._

"_Where you going?" he asks when he catches up with me._

"_I, uh, have an errand to run," I answer. I just hope to god he doesn't start asking questions._

"_An errand?"_

_Damn. "Yeah."_

"_What kind of errand?"_

_Oh dear. "Just an errand. I'll explain later. Much later."_

_Michael lowers his eyebrows. "Okay. Is everything alright?" _

"_Yeah, it's just… I'll explain later." _

_I quickly walk out of the hospital before he can ask any more questions._

_

* * *

_

I've taken refuge in an empty room. Yeah, yeah, I know that's not exactly the smartest thing I've ever done but having you been keeping up with the programme lately?

As I close my eyes and think about how much of an ass I am, I hear the door open.

"JD. You in here? It's Turk. One of the nurses told me you were in here, so you better answer me if you're in here or I'll be biting a poor nurse's head off for no reason."

"I'm in here."

Turk steps round the corner and looks down at me, sitting on the floor. "You alright?"

"No."

My Brown Bear sits down next to me. "I'm sorry. How did it go with Elliot last night?"

I look down at the ground sheepishly. "It didn't."

"What happened?"

"I freaked out completely. I didn't go home until after midnight and Elliot was already asleep. And I left before she woke up this morning."

Turk shakes his head at me. "JD, what the hell were you thinking?"

"I wasn't"

Turk scoffs. "Clearly."

"What am I going to do?"

"Well for starters you should talk to Elliot," Turk says, like it's completely obvious. "And you should do it before Carla has a chance to kick your ass. 'Cause trust me; she'll do it."

I sigh. "I know. It's just… it's a shocker."

"I know," Turk says sympathetically, "but once the initial shock and everything wears off, it's all gonna be okay."

"I hope so."

Turk pager beeps. "I have to go. Promise me the first chance you get you'll go and speak to Elliot?"

"Yeah, I'll go."

"Good boy," Turk says, nodding. He walks towards the door then turn around again. "Don't you have some patients to see?" He turns again and walks out of the room.

"Yeah." I stand up and walk out of the room too.

* * *

_Okay, that was bad. I almost completely spilled the beans of the whole thing to Michael. And since I clearly _suck_ at trying to think up believable stories on the spot, I have to think of a way to make sure that JD definitely doesn't find out. Wait a second, is that Janitor sitting on the bench?_

"_Hey, Janitor!"_

_Janitor turns and looks at me as I walk towards him. "Hey, little blondie. What can I do for you?"_

"_I was actually hoping you could do me a favour."_

"_What's that, kid?"_

"_If I gave you this twenty dollar bill I'm holding in my hand, could spend the day distracting J… um…" God, what is the Janitor calls JD again? Oh right! "Could you spend the day distracting Idiot for us?"_

_Janitor furrows his eyebrows. "Distract him how?"_

"_By any means possible." That could have been a dangerous answer._

_Janitor nods. "Okay, I'm in," he says, taking the twenty dollars from my hand._

"_Thank you." I walk down the path, away from the janitor._

_That was easy._

_

* * *

_

For the first time today, I walk into Mr Hannigan's room. He's being discharged today and I want to say goodbye to him before he goes.

"Hey Mr Hannigan," I say as I walk in. And I know the tone of voice really isn't happy, or optimistic, but it's difficult to muster up happy or optimistic when you've come to the conclusion you're the worst person that ever lived. "You excited to be getting discharged today?"

"Yeah," he smiles. "If you don't mind me asking, how did it go with your girlfriend last night?"

"Well, I freaked out, didn't go home for hours –" Before I have a chance to sit down, somebody yanks my arm and pulls me away. What the hell?

"Excuse us!" I recognise the voice as Turk's. He drags me right out of Mr Hannigan's room. "Dude! What are you _thinking_?!"

"What the hell was that for?!" I yell.

"You can't pawn your problems off on you patients!"

"I wasn't," I say defensively. "He asked!"

"You still don't do that!" Turk snaps. "You know what, follow me." He once again yanks my arm and drags me along the corridor.

"What the hell you doing? Where are you taking me?"

* * *

_Two words: Pissed off. The pharmacy a few streets away that I was supposed to be going to is closed. For some idiot reason, it's closed. What is the deal with that? Seriously?! And as a result, I had to catch the bus to the mall where I know there's another pharmacy. Trust me, getting on a public bus dressed as a fairy is not fun. People kept giving weird looks. I should have had a sign that said 'I'm part of the Sacred Heart Hospital fundraiser. I'm not just dressed up as a fairy for the hell of it. I'm not crazy!" Actually, I should probably still have that sign. Walking around a mall in a fairy costume isn't fun either. I've just been keeping my head down, and hoping to God nobody recognises me._

_I've actually using the same 'keep the head down' technique now that I'm in the pharmacy. If I wasn't praying before that nobody recognised me, I definitely now. If somebody has to recognise me, I at least hope it's not someone from my school. I'm still known as 'That New Chick From Connecticut' by most people who aren't within my small circle of friends. Can you imagine the scandal there would be if someone from the school saw me buying a pregnancy test? I could say it wasn't for me all I wanted, Kate and Michael could back me up all they could, it would not make the slightest bit of difference . It would still be one hell of a rumour mill. _

_Okay. So I've got the pregnancy test and I'm heading up to the counter. If I can make it there without being recognised, I'm as good as clear. Thank goodness there's not queue. Walk quickly, walk quickly. _And_ I've put the test on the counter. The cashier is scanning it now._

"_That'll be twelve dollars, please," she says._

_When I hand over the twenty-dollar bill that Carla gave me, the cashier looks down at me disapprovingly and says, "But girl, you're only a child."_

_Oh sweet Moses. "It's not for me," I say, even though I know there is no way on this earth that this woman will buy that._

"_That's what they all say, honey."_

_I roll my eyes, put the now paid for test into my bag, and walk out of the pharmacy._

_

* * *

_

"Dude, seriously! Why the hell have you brought me to the cafeteria?" I yell at Turk.

Okay, when I say Turk brought me to the cafeteria, I mean he dragged me here. And by dragged me here, I mean he literally dragged me here by the arm of my scrubs. He did not let go of my scrubs until we were down here. Even in the elevator. It's not like I had anywhere to run to!

Turk continues to drag me through the cafeteria until he finds an empty table.

"Turk, what the hell?" I ask once I'm sitting down. "What was that for? People were giving you weird looks."

Turk sits down opposite me. "JD. This is an intervention."

"An intervention?"

"Yes," Turk sternly says. "An intervention."

"An intervention for what?"

"So many things, really."

I raise an eyebrow. "Sarcasm at this time? _Really?_"

Turk ignores my question. "But most importantly it is an intervention to get you to talk to Elliot!"

"I'm going to."

"You said that at about 6pm last night. It's now 10am. That's sixteen hours, man."

As if I don't already know that. "Doesn't there need to be more than only you here to make this an intervention against me?"

Before Turk answers, I notice Dr Cox entering the cafeteria. He walks over to our table and takes a seat. He nods at Turk. "Gandhi." Then he looks at me. **"**Avoider Annie."

Oh, god.

* * *

_I'm standing at the vending machine in the paediatrics ward. Anybody else think it's kind of a bad idea to have a vending machine in paediatrics. I'd have thought you'd want to restrict the amount of sugar the kids had access to? But what you gonna do? I'm just glad there's a vending machine somewhere. I could kill for a Snickers bar. What? 89 cents?! I could have bought a Snickers bar at the mall for 50c! Of course I didn't, but I was dressed in a fairy costume, buying a pregnancy test. I didn't exactly want to stick around to buy chocolate! Hence my being here, at the vending machine in paediatrics._

_Suddenly, somebody taps my shoulder. I look around to see who it is._

"_So did you manage to get there and back without anyone recognising you?" Kate asks._

"_Sure did," I answer quietly. "Almost got caught out before I'd even left the hospital though. Michael stopped me and asked me where I was going and I couldn't quickly think of a good cover story."_

"_What did you eventually say?"_

_I cringe. "That I had an errand to run. Who says they have an errand to run?"_

"_You apparently," Kate sarcastically replies. "So what's the update?"_

"_Okay. Neither my aunt nor Carla can get a break until 12.45. Meet back at the second floor bathroom then," I answer, keeping the voice hushed._

"_So 12.45, second floor?"_

"_Yeah."_

"_12.45, second floor, what?" Somebody asks._

_Kate and I both wince. Why? Because one again, we've nearly spilled the beans to Michael._

"_Uh… nothing," Kate answers._

_Michael raises an eyebrow. "You sure?"_

_I nod. "Yeah, it's nothing." I could not sound less convincing right now. _

"_Okay then." Yeah. Michael clearly didn't buy that. "Hey, I have to cover the bake sale stand this afternoon. One of you want to help?"_

"_We can't," Kate and I simultaneously say._

"_Why not?"_

"'_Cause we have other place to be," Kate answers._

"Where?"

"_We, uh, can't tell you," I say. Why do I get the feeling this conversation is going to end badly?"_

_Michael seems confused. "Why not? What's going on?"_

_Once again, I say calmly: "We can't tell you."_

"_Why not?"_

"_Because we just can't!" I snap. I didn't even expect to snap. "We just can't! Later, we might be able to tell you, but right now, we can't tell you? Why the hell don't you get that?" Then I walk away._

_I quietly hear Michael ask Kate: "Is she okay?"_

"_She'll explain later."_

* * *

An intervention it is. Turk hasn't just got Dr Cox involved. Somehow, he's managed to assemble Doug, The Todd and Dr Kelso. Although, I'm not sure what help they're going to be…

I look at Kelso. "Looks like Mickhead owes me fifty bucks."

Then Doug. **"**Aww, cute. A little baby!."

And then Todd. "At least you're getting laid five." He holds up his palm for me to hit.

I shake me head.

The Todd lowers his hand dejectedly and frowns.

Okay, scratch what I said earlier. I do know that help these guys are going to be. None at all.

"You realise what you've gone and done, don't you?" Dr Cox asks snidely.

I exhale with annoyance. "What?"

"You've got an already insane woman pregnant. Now, any man knows that even the sanest woman goes crazy during pregnancy, and, well, by knocking up Barbie you've essentially multiplied her crazy cooties. And you know what that means don't you?"

I shake my head. "No."

Dr Cox sniggers like a mad man. "It means torture for the rest of us. And that will _not_ end well for you."

"Seriously, guys!" Turk says. Clearly, he's annoyed. "I got you all here to help. This is the opposite of helping."

The four other doctors around me all mumble variations of 'sorry'.

Turk nods accomplishedly. "Alright then. Now, JD, why didn't you go home last night and talk to Elliot?"

"Because I was freaking out."

Dr Cox scoffs. "You'll have to come up with a better answer than that. Everybody freaks out when they find out they're gonna be a dad, but most people speak with their wives within the first sixteen hours of finding out!"

"And there's another thing," I continue, completely blanking Dr Cox's quite obvious jibe. "We're not married."

"So?" Dr Cox asks. "Jordan and I aren't married and we do fine. Whether you're married or not doesn't make the blindest bit of difference to the kid."

Turk agrees. "What really matters is if you and Elliot are there for your kid."

"What if I'm a lousy dad, though? What if I'm like how my dad was?"

"Okay, _now_ we're getting somewhere," Turk mutters. "JD, take a look at yourself. You're a doctor; you're happy and healthy. You and your dad might not have got along so well, but he must have done something right along the way."

"This is a sentence I never thought I'd say and will never say again," Dr Cox says. "Gandhi is right. It doesn't matter how you well you try to raise that kid. You and Barbie are going to screw it up in your own special way, regardless of what you do!"

"Was that really necessary?" I ask.

Dr Cox nods. "It was."

"And what if –" Before I can finish my question, I am interrupted.

"Hey, Dorian," an angry voice says.

Everybody look up to see Alyssa standing at the table. Her arms are folded and she's glaring right at me.

"A word," she snarls.

Turk, Dr Cox, the Todd and Doug all look back at me.

"You're in trouble now," Turk whispers.

* * *

_You want to know what is really annoying? I walked twenty minutes to the mall in a fairy costume to buy a pregnancy test. Then I had to walk the same distance back again. And then I had to carry it about it my bag for the last few hours. Thank god nobody went through my bag, because that would have been really awkward. Anyway, what's annoying is doing everything I just said, only for your aunt to discover that said pregnancy test is faulty. But that is exactly what happened._

_Carla and my aunt are still waiting in the bathroom, while Kate and I sneak to the supply closet to, ahem, _steal_ pregnancy tests from the hospital. I know what you're thinking. Wouldn't it just be simpler to go back to the mall and not risk being caught stealing hospital supplies? Yes, yes it would. But here's the thing. There's no time._

_This whole thing is really stressful, I have to say. Well, it's stressful for Carla, Kate and I who are just trying to keep everything on the hush, so I can't even being to imagine how my aunt's feeling right now._

"_Hey, Lys, can I ask you a question?" Kate asks. We're walking towards the supply closet. "Why did you completely snap at Michael earlier?"_

"_He was just pissing me off; he just wouldn't stop asking me questions when I'd already told him I'd explain later. Why couldn't he just leave it at that?" I ask rhetorically, feeling myself getting angry again. "But hey, that's enough of that then."_

_Now that we're standing at the supply closet door, I'm trying to unlock the damn thing. These keys that the Janitor gave me are confusing me. There are a million of them and I can't find the right one. Oh, wait, here we go._

_The door unlocks and…. Oh crap. You'll never guess who's hiding in the supply closet._

"_You two are probably thinking the same thing as I am," JD says when Kate and I stare at him._

"_Why every time a door opens you're on the other side of it?" I sarcastically ask. You see, I use sarcasm because it's the best way to deflect suspicion. "How the hell did you end up stuck in here anyway?"_

"_It's a long story," he says as he stands up. "What are you two doing here?"_

_And once again, I find myself trying to make up a believable story off the top of my head. God, I'm crap at this. _

"_We were asked to do inventory!" Kate says quickly and enthusiastically. "Dr Cox is looking for you, by the way," she adds. You see, this is why this girl is my best friend. Not only does she think up an excuse for why we're invading the supply closet, she also creates an excuse to get rid of JD while we look in her for a pregnancy test to see if his girlfriend's pregnant with his baby. Life is weird sometimes._

"_Oh, great. By any chance have either of you seen Elliot recently?"_

_Kate and I look at other before nodding. Well, technically it's true._

"_Did she seem pissed?"_

_Kate and I nod again. Well, it is also technically true. He just doesn't know exactly why she's upset._

"_Oh god." JD begins to run down the corridor, but then he stops and turns around again. "How did you two get the keys for that cupboard?" _

_Kate shrugs. "We asked Janitor and he gave us them. Why?"_

"_Just wondering." JD continues down the corridor._

_Once we're standing in the cupboard and JD is out of earshot, Kate asks, "Do you reckon the Janitor locked him in here?"_

"_Well, considering I paid him twenty bucks to distract JD for the day, I would hope so."_

_Kate raises her eyebrows and blinks at me. "You paid Janitor to distract JD? You realise how dangerous that was?" She asks laughing, slightly._

"_It's working isn't it?" I ask, as I rummage around the cupboard._

"_That was pretty close before, though._

"_I know," I say, accompanied with a sigh of relief. . "Although I nearly got caught before I'd even left the hospital. Michael stopped me and asked me where I was going. I felt horrible lying to him."_

_Kate sniggers. "I wonder why…"_

"_Because he's my friend, and I hate lying to my friends."_

"_Yeah, yeah, whatever."_

"It's true," I say, rolling my eyes. "How crazy is all this?" "It's crazy," Kate don't speak for a couple of minutes. The two of us concentrate on searching for the tests.

"Oh, wait… here we go," Kate says, as she pulls a pregnancy test box from a larger box.

"_Awesome."_

"_There's loads of them here," Kate mutters. "Do you think we should take two along?"_

_I think for a second. "It couldn't hurt."_

* * *

"What the hell are you playing at, dude?" Alyssa shouts. When I don't answer her,

she says, "I'm _actually _asking you, here! What the hell are you playing at?"

"I'm not playing at anything," I answer sheepishly. Because that's an answer that won't get me beaten up…

"Then why exactly is my aunt in a massive panic because she's convinced that she's going to have to raise a kid alone?"

"She really thinks that?"

Turk scoffs. "Can you really blame her?"

I look down at my table. "No."

"Alyssa," Dr Cox says, "why don't you join us at the kick Newbie's ass table."

Aly nods. "Gladly." She pulls a chair over from another table and joins the rest of us.

"I've really screwed this up, haven't I?" I mutter quietly to myself. "Why does Elliot think she'd have to raise the baby alone?"

Alyssa immediately raises her hand. "Can I take this one? Well, there's the fact you didn't go home last night, and then there's –"

"Yeah, I get it," I snap. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"I'm helping to clean up the mess from the fundraiser yesterday," Alyssa answers pleasantly. Then she lowers her eyebrows. "And don't snap at me! Do you _really_ want me to kill you more violently than I'm already gonna?"

"I never meant for her to think that I wasn't going to be there. Of course I'm going to be there. How am I going to fix this?"

"Apologise," Turk says. "Profusely. And then hope for the best. That's probably all you can do."

"Yeah," Alyssa says. "She's angry at you, but more than anything she's just really scared that you've gone and done a runner. I think she'd be fine after you speak to her."

Just after Alyssa stops speaking, my pager beeps. I glance down at it, and it tells me that I need to go see one of my elderly patients. "I hope so," I say before walking out of the cafeteria.

* * *

_It's a weird thing, being with someone when they're finding out whether or not they are definitely pregnant. It's weird because you know you've been there. You know how the person is feeling. It's a weird mix of excitement, hope, but there's also feeling of fear. Doubt, maybe. Fear it's not true, disbelief that it's really true. I think most people will take more than one test. Like when I found out I was pregnant with Isabella, I took two extra tests even though I knew the other two I'd taken before were correct. And I was trying to get pregnant. I was almost expecting the pregnancy; it wasn't an out of the blue situation like Elliot's dealing with right now._

_Elliot's pacing back and forward in the bathroom. I know the feeling. Three minutes can feel like a really long time when you're finding out if your whole life's going to change. Even if it is for the third time, and the last two tests came back positive._

"_What if JD doesn't want this baby?" Elliot asks nervously, maybe rhetorically, maybe not. I'm not particularly sure. She's still pacing back and forward. _

"_He will, Elliot," I say. Okay, so I don't know that, but I'm a good friend, so I'll be the optimistic one._

"_How do you know, Carla?" Elliot snappily questions. "What if he doesn't?"_

"_He loves you, you love him. Everything will be okay, Elliot."_

"_What if it's not? We've only been together four months. What if this is too much too fast? We're supposed to be taking things slow. This is the complete opposite of slow."_

"_You can't change what's already happened, Elliot."_

"_What if things turn bad between us again, like they have every other time things have started to get serious?"_

_If you knew JD and Elliot's history, you could completely understand Elliot's fears. And I won't ever tell Elliot this, but I've been thinking the same thing myself all day. But like I said earlier, I've got to be the hopeful friend. "Elliot, that was a long time ago. You and JD have both grown up so much since then. You said it yourself the other day; the big things don't seem so scary any more."_

"_Yeah but when I was talking about that I wasn't expecting to find out I was pregnant the week later!" Elliot snaps. "What if he freaks out and decides that things are too serious and he breaks up with me? Everybody knows he's a commitophobe. It's an achievement that we've actually made it to four months without a crisis and survived. Everyone knows we both run at the first sign of trouble, so how the hell are we going to be able to cope with an unplanned pregnancy? And I know you want to tell me that everything will be fine because JD and I have changed and we're not still the same people we were before and everything will be fine because I love JD and JD loves me. But you know what, that doesn't make the blindest bit of difference, because I thought that once before. Remember that? It was roughly the time of your wedding when he convinced me to leave my boyfriend for him then two days later he decides he doesn't really love me? Remember that Carla? Because I do, quite vividly!" Now, Elliot's practically yelling at me. She's stressed. "What if he does that again?" Elliot's voice is calmer, but I'm not sure if her voice was maybe cracking slightly with tears. "What if, with all the added pressure of a baby, he decides that this is too much and he doesn't really love me after all?" Once she finishes speaking, Elliot turns her back to me. She stops her pacing and just puts her head in her hands._

_I really don't know how to answer anything she just asked so I'll respond the best way I know how. I walk over to Elliot and give her a hug. "I know this isn't really what you want to hear right now," I say quietly, "but no matter what happens with you and JD and the baby, everything will be okay. Trust me."_

_Elliot sniffs (she's crying), then says, "Thank you, Carla." _

_The alarm on my cell phone goes off. I set the timer on my phone to let us know when the three minutes was up. "Do you want me to look?"_

_Elliot shakes her head. "No, thank you. I want to look at it myself." She steps towards the ledge that the test is on. She picks up the test and looks at it for a few seconds before speaking. "Yep," she says quietly. "It's positive. I'm definitely pregnant."_

"_You are," I repeat. "What are you going to do?"_

_Elliot sighs. "I'm really… not sure. I think I might go home."_

_  
"When are you going to talk to JD?"_

"_I don't know," Elliot replies. "I don't know how I'm even going to be able to begin that conversation."_

"_If you'd like, I can go talk to him for you?"_

_Elliot smiles. "Thank you Carla."_

"_It's no problem, hon. Just go home and relax; I'll take care of JD for you."_

_  
Elliot hugs me again and says. "Thank you so much, Carla. Really, for everything today."_

"_It's no problem."_

_

* * *

_

I've been thinking a lot about Dr Cox, and Turk and even Alyssa said to me in the cafeteria. They spoke a lot of sense, but it didn't do much to calm any fears I had. I know I won't necessarily be the same father my dad was, but what if I am? What if I'm worse?

And then there's what Alyssa said about Elliot. I can't believe Elliot is worried she's going to have to raise our baby on her own. I wouldn't let that happen. I know I really haven't acted the best since yesterday, and there's no getting away from that. I can't really blame her for thinking what she is. I just hope she lets me make it up to her.

I've been looking for Elliot throughout the day, but I haven't been able to find her. I'm not sure if she's avoiding me or if she has a lot of patients. I hope she's not avoiding me. After I finish writing this patient's notes, I'll try looking for her again, even if it does mean I take some well-earned abuse.

You know what I wish? I wish I could go back to yesterday when Carla told me and instead of freaking out, I would just go straight home and this whole thing would be much better. I really don't think I could have handled this worse.

I am just writing the last little bit of information on the chart when I'm spoken to.

"JD?" The voice is soft and gentle.

"Elliot, I am so sorry about-"

Elliot raises her hand to stop me from speaking. "Don't. We can talk about that later," she says bitterly. "I just wanted to ask if you'd meet me in Coffee Bucks in an hour."

"I'll be there," I say. "Elliot, I'm sorry I didn't go home until late last night and I'm sorry I had to leave before speaking to you this morning."

Elliot smiles just slightly. "We can talk about it at home. I'll see you in an hour, okay? Please be there."

"Don't worry, I will."

Elliot walks away and I start to feel all the more guilty about the last two days.

* * *

"_Okay, for the second time," I answer with exaggerated annoyance, even though I don't mind explaining so much. "I was in Mr Hannigan's room playing Go Fish - and having a rant about everything - because Dr Kelso kinda yelled at me to do some _actual_ work. I had my phone sitting on the table just in case Carla or Kate called to update me on any developments. JD walked into the room. I ducked and hid under the bed, but forgot to pick up my phone. JD picked it up when he left the room and gave it to you. And that's how you ended up with my phone."_

"_Riiight," Michael says almost sarcastically. "Thanks for clearing that up."_

"_Shut up," I laugh. "This has been the craziest day in the history of crazy days. I'm so tired tonight." Yawn._

"_Sounds like it. Hey, so are you excited you're gonna have a new baby cousin?" Michael asks._

_I frown. "I haven't really though about it to be honest."_

"_No?"_

"_No. There was just so much going on today, I never gave it a thought."_

"_Oh well, then," Michael says. "Maybe later once everything has calmed down."_

"_Yeah."_

_Now after about 45 minutes of slow walking and I mean really slow walking), we're now standing outside my apartment block. _

_  
"You really didn't have to walk me all the way home, you know?"_

"_Well, no," Michael answers. "But I wanted to."_

"_Thank you. I guess I should go upstairs then, and get out of this costume."_

_Michael fake-frowns. "Aw really? You're gonna lose the fairy outfit?"_

"_Yeah. As glamorous as the fairy costume is, I'm looking forward to losing the fairy wings and wash all this damn glitter off myself," I say, chuckling slightly. "Aren't you looking forward to getting rid of the Superman outfit?"_

"_Oh hells no. I actually enjoy wearing blue tights. And I enjoy wearing pants over them. In fact, I might just wear this outfit to school on Monday."_

_I laugh loudly. "Oh my god, I will seriously pay you a hundred bucks if you do that! Of course, I'll have to save up a hundred bucks, but I'll still pay you it!"_

"_Ha ha, watch this space then!" Michael jestingly says. "So, see you later," Michael continues, giving me a hug._

"_See ya later. I'll call you tomorrow night and let you know how everything goes."_

_I walk over to the apartment door, type my open-door-code and open the door just slightly. Before I completely walk to the apartment block, I glance back round to see Michael practically dancing up the street in his Superman outfit. What a Muppet_

_It doesn't even take me long to actually get to my aunt's apartment. When I get there, I open the door slowly and quietly. It's just in case JD and Elliot are still talking. I don't want to interrupt or startle them. Huh. That's weird. I'm not hearing talking. I'm hearing… crying? That can't be good. I wonder what's happened. I don't walk into the living room just yet._

"_I knew it, Carla. I knew this was going to happen. I knew he'd scare like this."_

"_You don't know that, Elliot," Carla replies. "He might have just got caught up with an emergency at the hospital." If she was trying to sound convincing, it _so_ did not work._

"_Then why the hell hasn't he called to say so, Carla?" My aunt shrieks. "Please don't try to convince me that there's some innocent reason that he hasn't been back or called. It's been hours since you told him I was pregnant. He's gone commitophobic again, like he always does. I knew this was a mistake." There a second or two, then my aunt starts sobbing. Really loud sobbing._

_I step tentatively closer to the living room, close enough so that I can just see what's going on, but my Aunt Elliot and Carla can't see me. Aunt Elliot is sitting on the couch with her head in her hands. Carla is sitting next to her._

"_Hey," Carla says quietly, wrapping her arm around my aunt to give her a hug. "Don't talk like that. Whatever happens, it's going to be okay."_

_My aunt seems to regain her composure. She looks up at Carla. "I can't raise this baby on my own." She looks at Carla for a second more before breaking down again and resting her head in her hands._

_Carla hugs my aunt again. "It's gonna be okay," she repeats quietly._

_Wow. This is really bad._

_

* * *

_

It's been an hour since I spoke with Elliot. As I walk through the Coffee Bucks, I notice how busy it is. There's hardly a free table anywhere. I look around for Elliot. When I see her she waves, and I walk over to the table.

"Hey," I say quietly.

"Hey," Elliot repeats. She looks up at me and smiles just a little. "I got you coffee," she says, sliding the cup across the table. "I got myself tea since, you know, I apparently can't drink coffee anymore. I just… I can't believe this."

"Me neither."

And that's as far as that conversation goes, because before we can speak any more, Turk and Carla walk over to our table.

"Do you mind if we take these two seats?" Turk asks. "There are no other free seats."

"Sure, go ahead," Elliot answers.

"So how are you both doing now?" Carla asks sympathetically.

"We're talking, which is a start, I guess," Elliot says, with a mix of joking and seriously.

"I think, really, we're both still shell-shocked about this," I continue.

"Yeah, I mean, we're supposed to be taking things slow," Elliot says. Then she looks right at me. "What happened to taking things slow?"

"Uh, I hate to break it to you guys," Turk utters, "but you guys have not been taking things slowly."

"What?" Elliot and I ask at the same time.

"Yeah. Let me ask you this, JD," Turk says. "When was the last time you stayed at your own apartment?"

"Um…" Wow, I actually have to think about this. I glance over to Elliot, who seems to be thinking hard too. "It was probably when your parents were here," I say quietly to Elliot, but Turk and Carla probably heard it too.

"And how long ago was that?" Carla asks.

"Only about three, four weeks ago," Elliot answers. "That's not so weird."

"Uh-huh," Turk mumbles. "And when did you last stay at your own apartment before that?"

"Uh…"

"Exactly!" Turk exclaims. "It's been that long you can't remember."

Carla nods. "Turk's right. You two practically live together already."

"No we don't!" Elliot and I protest.

"Yeah you do," Turk argues. "Haven't you noticed that if I'm looking for you I just call Elliot's place?"

"I thought I just happened to be at Elliot's when you call."

Turk shakes his head. "Nope. I call Elliot's because you're always there."

"You do spend most of your time at mine," Elliot says, looking at me. "And you even have your important mail redirected to my place. Thinking about it, we have been moving kinda fast."

"Yeah, you have," Carla says in her know-it-all tone.

"You know," Elliot continues, "you were the one who told us to take things slow. Why didn't you say anything to us if you saw we were going too fast?"

"I was gonna," Carla answers. "But whatever you two had going on seemed to be working for you and you were happy, so I didn't say anything."

"Well, maybe you should have," Elliot quietly says, staring into her teacup.

"Hey," I say soothingly, taking a hold of Elliot's hand. "I know everything's scary and confusing, but it's going to be okay. We'll figure this out, okay?"

"Okay."

"What you guys are feeling is completely normal," Carla explains. "In a little while, once the initial shock wears off, I bet you'll feel differently."

"You think so?" Elliot asks.

"Yeah."

Then my pager beeps and I glance down at it. "Dammit. I have to go," I say as stand up. "What time are you off?" I ask Elliot.

"In about an hour. You?"

"Not until five. Talk at home, okay?"

Elliot frowns. "Promise me you're coming home tonight?"

"I promise," I say softly, before kissing Elliot on the lips. "I'll be home just after five."

"You better be."

* * *

_Holy crap. Last night was just… there are no words to even describe it. Weird just doesn't cut it. Neither does horrible. I sat up with my aunt until after eleven last night, waiting to see if JD would actually show up. You guessed it. He didn't. Jerk. The next time I see him, I may kill him on my aunt's behalf._

_Carla stayed for a few hours too. I think she could be just as angry as I am with JD, even if she wasn't showing it as much as I was. And I think my aunt was too shocked/devastated/exhausted to really express her anger. She stayed up way past eleven though. She said she wanted to stay up a little bit longer to see if he would come back. She's still asleep on the couch. She must have got that blanket from her room. I feel so bad for her, but I don't think it's completely hit her yet what's going on._

_I could seriously kill JD the next time I see him. You know, providing Carla doesn't kill him first. He really is an asshole. It's a shame though, because I did like him. And I actually thought that him and my aunt Elliot might have been perfect for each other, even though I'm a total cynic and I don't really believe in that. I just can't believe he would do that to her, you know? That being said, however, from what Carla said last night, JD and Elliot have had somewhat of a chequered past._

_In about ten minutes., I have to go to the hospital. All the volunteers have to go. We're clearing up after the fundraiser and helping to calculate the total. Do you think JD might be there so I can murder him? No?_

_I exit the bathroom, having just brushed my teeth. I'm careful to step quietly so as I don't wake my aunt up._

"_Morning," Aunt Elliot says tiredly from behind me. Apparently I didn't need to worry about waking her up._

"_Morning," I repeat. "How you feeling?"_

"_I don't know. Tired. Confused."_

_What do you answer to that?_

"_Are you going to the hospital?" My aunt asks, looking round at me._

"_Yeah, we've got to clear up after the fundraiser," I answer. "Are you off work today?"_

"_No, I'm going in. I start at ten," Aunt Elliot says. "I guess I'm gonna have to prepare for taking care of a kid on my own with one wage now, huh?"_

_You try thinking of a good answer to that. "Well, uh… I have to leave now. Or Kelso will yell at me for being late. I'll maybe see you at the hospital," I say._

"_Yeah. See you later."_

_After my aunt speaks, I walk out of the apartment._

_Jeez. I really hope this gets better. Somehow._

* * *

It's half past five, and I'm just home. Relax, I have a perfectly reasonable excuse. I open the door to the apartment quietly, so as not to potentially startle Elliot.

"Hello," I say at a normal volume of voice. "I'm home."

Elliot, who is sitting on the couch, exhales a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank God. What the hell took you so long? I was beginning to think you'd run off again!"

I lift up a brown paper KFC bag. "I stopped off for food. Thought you might be hungry," I add, handing the bag to Elliot.

"Aw, that's so sweet," Elliot smiles as she rummages through the bag. "Oh, hot wings!" she enthusiastically mutters as she pulls out the box of hot wings. "Thanks for these."

I chuckle. "Don't even mention it. Listen… about last night-"

"Yeah, where did you go?" Elliot asks, her voice muffled thanks to the chicken wing in her mouth.

"God only knows," I answer quickly. "I honestly didn't know where I was going all the time. I just went where my legs took me."

Elliot giggles. "Yeah but _where_ did you go?"

"Well, first I went to the bar. I just sat in one of the booths for like… an hour, thinking about what I was going to say to you. And then I got half way home from that bar before I ended up at the mall."

Lowering her eyebrows, Elliot asks: "The mall? Why?"

"I really don't know. It's just where I ended up," I say quietly. "But I'm kinda glad I did, because I've got something to show you."

"What?"

"Let me get it." I stand up, leaving Elliot with a rather bewildered look on her face. I go into the bedroom and fetch a bag that I put in a drawer last night and go back through to the living room.

Instead of still being sat on the couch, Elliot is in her kitchenette. "I wanted to get the chicken grease off of my hands."

I glance at the hot wings box. The empty hot wings box. "How long was I through there?" ask incredulously, but jokingly. "There were still two wings in there when I left!"

"Yeah, I was pretty hungry," Elliot laughs. "So what did you want to show me?"

Without answering Elliot, I unwrap what I'm going to show her. Once I have it fully unwrapped from the tissue paper-y covering that encases it, I hold up the little onesie that I bought last night.

"Wow," Elliot says quietly, looking at the little onesie. She walks closer towards me and says, "That's… it's gorgeous. And it's so small. Did you get this last night?"

"Yeah. I had to convince the shop girl to stay open an extra ten minutes to let my buy it. I just… I was wandering around the mall because I was freaking out and then I saw the front of this-"

Elliot looks down at the fluffy onesie and reads the writing on it. "_My mommy and daddy love me_." Elliot doesn't say anything else, but she just looks up at me and I'm not sure if her eyes are filling up.

"Seeing that just sort of… put thing in perspective for me," I say, while Elliot still looks at the onesie, occasionally running her hand over it. "I mean, I was completely freaking out and I saw this and it just brought me back to reality. I was looking at it and I could just see this little baby wearing it and wriggling around and laughing. And he looked like us. I thought to myself 'Okay, you know what, there's no use freaking out about this. It's happening. It's unexpected, but it's happening.'"

Elliot smiles up at me. "I know what you mean. All of yesterday I was just so scared about what was going to happen and if you were going to want this baby. I wondered if this was even what _I_ wanted. I began thinking this was a mistake. And then when you didn't come home last night, I started panicking and then I convinced myself that you weren't ever coming back and that you didn't want the baby. And… I'm really ashamed to say this… it almost crossed my mind to get rid of the baby," Elliot says, looking down at the ground. "So I called Carla and she came over to speak to me and she managed to talk me off my metaphorical ledge and convinced me that you would be coming home; you were just freaking out a bit. After she went away and I thought a lot to myself and thought about the tiny little baby that's apparently growing inside of me and I realised that this was what I wanted. Okay, it wasn't happening the way I always thought it would, but that doesn't matter as much. And then, in the morning when I saw your note saying you were at work, I was strangely happy because I knew you'd been back. I wanted to be angry with you for not coming home. But when I saw you in the patient's room and I saw that you had come back, I was just relieved."

"I am so sorry that I made you think like that. I would never have done that, never come home eventually. I was really freaking out last night."

"You and me both," Elliot chuckles. Then she yawns.

"Tired?" I ask.

"Yeah," Elliot answers. "It's been… it's been a rough couple of days."

When Elliot stops speaking, I wrap my arms around her shoulders. Elliot pulls her feet on to the couch and rests her head on my chest. She's still holding on to the onesie.

Almost without thinking about it, I place my hand on Elliot's stomach and say, "We're going to have a baby."

Elliot smiles just a little. "We are. Think we'll be able to manage this?"

"We'll get there."

* * *

**AN: Congratualtions if you made it this far! It was 34 pages on my microsoft word. Thanks for reading, and I'd really appreciate it if you'd let me know what you think of it. Thanks.**

* * *


	18. My Dance Meeting

**AN: Hey! Thanks for the reviews of the previous chapter. Much appreciated. :) I'll be prefectly honest, I don't particularly like this chapter, but it needs to be there to get things moving along.**

**.... OH!! And before I disappear. You must _must MUST_ go read My Fresh Start by TheSameFatalFlaw. Do it, do it _now!_ Well, y'know, after you've read this. :P**

* * *

**My Dance Meeting**

It's been four weeks since Elliot and I found out we were going to be parents. As scary as the thought still is, we're slowly but surely getting used to the idea. Elliot, however, is finding it a bit more difficult to adjust to being pregnant…

---

Four weeks ago…

I'm on break and hurrying down to Coffee Bucks to meet Elliot. When I get into the building, I see Elliot almost immediately. I kiss her cheek quickly before sitting down next to her. "Sorry, I'm late."

"_No worries. I only just got here," Elliot smiles. "I got you a cappuccino, is that okay?"_

"_Of course."_

_Just as Elliot lifts her cup to take a sip of her drink, I glance into her cup._

"_What did you get for yourself?" I ask, trying not to sound too suspicious._

"_Cappuccino," she answers quickly. Then it seems to click in her head. "Damn." Be right back." She stands up and walks back over to the counter._

---

Three weeks ago…

_The sound of a flushing toilet emanates from the bathroom (strangely enough). A second or two later Elliot walks out of the bathroom and back into living room. She's chalk white and looks exhausted. Flopping down, she exhales with frustration. "How much longer do I have to deal with throwing up a gazillion times a day?"_

_I pick up a book that's sitting on the coffee table. The cover says 'What To Expect When You're Expecting'. After looking through the index, I turn to page four. "According to this book, could be up to the 16__th__ week or intermittent episodes throughout pregnancy."_

_Elliot frowns, lowers her head, and whimpers._

_---_

Last week…

Elliot and I are having a look around the mall. We decided to have a look around the shops at baby stuff. Just 'cause. And since it's only four weeks until Christmas, we thought we'd get a head start on things. But unfortunately, Elliot has to pee. Again. And she's not happy about it.

"I've only had one cup of juice since I got here. What the hell? And where the hell are the damn bathrooms?"

"I don't know," I answer calmly. "They should be signposted better."

"The amount of times I have to pee theses days, you'd think I'd be able to find a fricking bathroom!"

Okay, she really is pissed off. "Come on, we'll ask the information guy there."

_Reluctantly, Elliot nods and walks with me towards the information desk._

"_Excuse me," I say to the guy. "Could you please tell us where the bathrooms are?"_

_  
"Yes," the guy smiles. "They're down towards the entrance and towards the left."_

_Elliot lowers her eyebrows angrily. "Back down towards the entrance!" she snaps. The poor info guy looks terrified. "For the love of God. You'd think you'd have some fricking signposts or something," she irately says as she walks away._

_After Elliot's storm off, the info guy looks at me, speechless. _

"_She's, uh, she's having a bad day," I say quietly. "It's nothing personal."_

"_Okay," Info Guy replies shakily. _

_  
I should probably find Elliot before she scares the living daylights out of another poor mall worker._

_---_

So, like I said, Elliot's finding it harder to adjust to being pregnant, but we're both more relaxed about actually having a baby. I guess Carla was right. We do feel differently now that the initial shock has worn off. We're almost excited about having the baby, even though we are still terrified out of our minds. But we're focusing on the positives, and today is the first sonogram, and we couldn't be more excited about it.

"Okay, remember to meet me up at obstetrics at 12.30?" Elliot asks, as I drive us to work. "And don't be late, or I'll have to kick your butt."

"Relax," I say jokingly. "There's no way in hell I'd be late for this. It's seeing the baby for the first time!"

Elliot laughs but rolls her eyes. "Please don't say it like that."

"Why not?"

"It scares me, that's all. It's just makes it all sound so scary and real."

"But aren't you excited?"

"Yeah, of course I am," Elliot smiles. "But I'm nervous too."

"Why?"

"I just… _am._ I'll be fine though."

"You sure?" I ask, as I pull into a parking spot.

"Yeah."

Elliot and I don't speak as we got out of the car and walk towards the hospital entrance.

"I wish it was 12.30 already," I say quietly.

"Yeah, me too," Elliot smiles.

* * *

I have to be honest and say it is really annoying being a senior at St Catherine's High School. The school expect us to do so much, it's ridiculous. We're either helping out at parents' nights for the younger grades or helping in younger classes or helping out with elementary school Mass or showing visitors round on the open night. Last week I didn't get home at all until after ten! I had to cancel my driving lesson too and I'm so close to my fifty hours! And now I have to organise the disco in a week, and I'm getting really pissed off. I'm the only one of my friends on the Dance Committee along side seven other bitches who I can't stand and who can't stand me. The thing is, these other girls, they're like this really insane clique. They're the 'it' crowd and I'm still the new girl, even though I've been here for nearly four months. It's ridiculous. Oh, and the chairperson of the committee, Rebecca, is the biggest bitch of the lot. I don't mean to be pessimistic, but I can see this ending badly for me,

Rebecca stands up and flashes her false and bitchy smirk. "We need somebody to pin up posters during their next study period. Would anybody like to do that?" She looks around the room, but I keep my head down. If I don't look maybe she won't notice me. "Alyssa, why don't you do that?"

Damn. "Uh… I'd rather not waste my study periods putting up the posters. I have a Chemistry exam in a few weeks and I really need to study for it."

Rebecca lowers her eyebrows and looks at me disapprovingly. "I'm sorry, are you saying that you don't want to help the committee.

A couple of the committee members scoff.

"No," I say calmly, even though I'm pretty angry. "That's not what I said at all. I said I would rather not give up my free periods because I have to study."

"We _all_ have to study, Alyssa."

Roll eyes. "Yes, I know, but does everybody have a Chemistry exam in two weeks?" I know for a fact that I'm the only one in here that has a Chemistry exam. "Surely someone else could do that and I do something less time consuming."

Shaking her head, Rebecca says, "If you weren't willing to commit the time to the community, then you shouldn't have joined."

Oh jeez. "You know what!" I snap. "I will just place those poster. Maybe it will get you to shut the hell up!"

My god. Everybody else in the committee is looking at me like I just skinned their puppy. And Rebecca's glaring at me. She lifts up an envelope and chucks it across the table at me. The envelope has the word 'Posters' written on it.

"There," Rebecca says scathingly. "Now, moving on…"

I told you this would go well.

* * *

The hospital is relatively calm today. There have been no sudden emergencies or codes. It's an easy day, work wise. Now, I'm taking Turk to see one of my patients, who requires a surgical consult.

"So, Ms Henry, this is Dr Turk. He's this best surgeon in this hospital, and he'll be the one operating on you."

"Nice to meet you, Ms Henry," Turk politely says.

"Please, call me Caitlyn."

"Okay, Caitlyn. The operation I'll perform is very simple…"

While Turk goes into detail about the surgery, I drift off. I'm not great at listening at surgical stuff. Even though it's calm, today is going so slowly. It's only 9.30, and it feels like I've been here for twenty hours. I think it's because I'm just so excited. I can't wait for the ultrasound later on. I want it to be 12.30 already.

But, while I couldn't be more thrilled about the ultrasound, Elliot seems more subdued. I know she's excited, don't get me wrong, I know she is. She seems nervous though. I suppose it is quite a nerve-racking thing. Hopefully, everything will be fine, but there's always the little possibility that it won't be. There are a million things that could be wrong.

You know what, I can't think about that. Because if you were to think about that you'd never relax. Ever. Optimism is always the best policy. Optimism.

I think Turk is rounding up his surgical explanation.

"So, Caitlyn, do you have any questions?"

"Yeah. Why does that guy keep staring at his watch?"

"What?" I ask kinda incredulously.

"Every few seconds you glance at your watch," Caitlyn explains. "What's that about?"

"Just seeing what time it is," I answer sheepishly, looking down at my feet.

Turk shakes his head. "Dude, you realise 12.30 isn't going to come any earlier because you keep looking at your watch? If anything it's going to seem like longer because of that."

I hate him sometimes. "I know."

"Oh, what's happening at 12.30? Sounds exciting!"

"My girlfriend is having her first ultrasound today," I say excitedly.

"Aww how cute! How far along is she?"

"About eight weeks roughly, we think," I smile.

"Aww."

"Yup," Turk mutters. "Today JD and Elliot are going to find out just how screwed up their kid's gonna be."

What?

"Okay, Caitlyn, we'll be back tomorrow for your surgery," Turk concludes, before we leave the room. "So you're really psyched for Elliot's ultrasound today, huh?"

"Yeah, I am."

"You never forget the first one," Turk says, almost reminiscently. "Be prepared for the tears."

Then it goes silent.

"Say Turk, when you said Elliot and I would find out how screwed up the baby is, what exactly did you mean by that?"

"I meant that with the combined insanity of you and Elliot, that kid has no chance of being normal," he answers, as if it was oh so obvious. "Why? What did you think I meant?"

"I don't know," I reply. "I've just been thinking. What if there's something wrong with the baby? What if there's no heartbeat?"

Turk sighs. "I'm not gonna lie. It might happen."

"Thanks. That's really helpful in calming my fears, thanks."

"I'm sorry. But it could happen," Turk repeats. Like he needs to say it more than once. "But equally, it probably won't. And if you always think about the worst, you would never relax. Ever."

"I guess you're right. You know, I was completely fine about it all until today. Today… I just feel so nervous, like something's going to be wrong."

"Yeah, I felt like that too when Carla was pregnant with Izzy. But after the first, I felt so much calmer. Trust me, you'll be the same."

"You think?" I ask quietly.

"Yeah," Turk answers. His pager beeps, and he looks down at it. "Listen dude, I gotta go. Call me later and let me know how it goes, okay?"

"Sure. Thanks Turk."

"No probs." Turk begins to walk away, but he turns around again. "Another thing. Do not, under any circumstances, let Elliot know you're nervous. It would not end well for anybody. At all."

"I won't."

"Good man." Turk walks away.

I sigh. It's going to be a really long day.

* * *

As much as I really detest doing this, I am pinning these posters to the walls of the building. This is ridiculous. I should be spending my time studying Chemistry, and instead I'm doing this.

One good this from this though, is that it is making me work on my anger management skills. You see, I want to do nothing more than rip all of these posters to shreds, but I'm rising above my anger and attempting to stay calm and just tack the posters up anyway. Trust me, it's not easy. At least I've got my iPod to distract me somewhat.

_I want to live where soul meets body…_ Seriously, Death Cab For Cutie are just awesome. Perfect calm down song, that. But I hope I wasn't singing out loud. I'm kinda prone to doing that, and it's not fun for anybody.

Somebody taps me on the shoulder. Which probably means I was singing. Damn. I turn around to look at whoever tapped me on the shoulder.

"You're listening to _Soul Meets Body_ by Death Cab, aren't you?" Michael asks me.

I think I can feel my cheeks go red. "I was singing, wasn't I?"

"No, but your iPod is so loud I can hear it half way down the corridor," Michael quips. "What are you doing anyway? I thought you wanted to do Chemistry revision today."

"I did, but instead I am thinking happy thoughts so I don't go psycho and shove forty disco posters up Rebecca Mackenzie's bitchy ass."

"Ah, yes, the Dance meeting," Michael dryly says. "How did that go?" He asks in a similar tone.

"Well, all the other girls there looked at me like I was green and had antennae, and then I got the most pain-in-the-ass job of the day while all the others got cushy jobs that literally require no work at all and I yelled at Rebecca," I answer. "So not great. That bitch just infuriates me."

"Yeah, she does that to most people who aren't in her gaggle," Michael sympathetically answers, and we walk along the corridor. "After twelve years of school with her, you eventually train yourself to block her out."

"You were at elementary with her?"

"I was, indeed," Michael wincingly says. "It's a memory I try to block out. That bitch used to steal my lunch money from me."

As I blu-tac another poster to the wall, I say, "That's horrible!"

"Yeah, it only stopped when she decided to start picking on the second graders."

"Evil."

"I always wish I'd stood up for myself though, you know. Got a chance to call her on her crap. It's one thing I want to do before I graduate if I get the chance."

"Well, you better do it soon," I answer. "Otherwise I'll have already killed her and it will be too late." After ensuring the poster I just placed is straight, I ask Michael, "You wanna help me tack these upstairs?"

"Yeah."

* * *

"Carla," Elliot says as she walks towards me. "What time is it?"

I roll my eyes. "It's 12.15," I crossly say. "Roughly five minutes since you last asked me."

Elliot smiles contritely. "Sorry. I don't have a watch, and I'm afraid I'll be late for my appointment."

"And did you really think twenty minutes had passed in the time it took you to go to the supply closet and back?"

Elliot just glares at me. "Shut up. My time judging skills are all over the place. I'm really nervous."

"About the ultrasound?"

"Yeah," she answers melancholically.

"Why?"

"I just keep thinking something's going to be wrong, you know? I keep thinking there's no going to be a heartbeat or they're going to tell us that there's something really wrong with the baby," Elliot says quietly.

I can completely understand what Elliot is feeling. "Have you told JD how you're feeling?" I ask.

"No," she frowns. "He's so excited about the baby and the ultrasound. I don't think he's even thought about what could be wrong and I don't want to bring him down, too." Elliot keeps looking down at the ground as we walk along the corridor. "I want to be as excited as JD is, I really do. It's just… there's something in the back of my mind always telling me there's might be a problem."

"I have to be honest with you," I begin, "that feeling never really goes away. You'll always think that something might be wrong."

"Yeah. I think I'll feel better after today, and I've seen the ultrasound and I know that everything's okay with the baby. Maybe I'll be able to relax and get more excited then."

"You know what, you probably will. I was exactly the same with Izzy," I explain. "I was absolutely terrified and I sort of obsessed over every little thing that could have been wrong. But after the first ultrasound, I felt better. You'll be the same."

"I hope so," Elliot smiles. "You know, I was fine until a couple of weeks ago. Then I had this nightmare that I was out somewhere – the mall, I think – and I started bleeding and I got to the hospital and they told me the baby was dead. They let me see it. It had two heads, no eyes and ducks' feet though, so that one was probably for the best," Elliot concludes, laughing just slightly. "But after that, it's just been in my head that things could be wrong."

"Your baby had ducks' feet?" I incredulously ask.

"Yeah, and wings!" Elliot replies, in a similar tone. "Clearly I ate too much cheese that night. I should never let JD convince me to cheese pizza and cheese nachos while watching Red Dawn."

Elliot and I speak at the same time. "Wolverines!"

"Anyway," I say, moving away from movie puns, "from what I heard, _you_ were the one that convinced JD to make you cheese pizza and nachos."

"Okay, whose side are you on?" Elliot protests jokingly. "Hey, what time is it now?"

I glance down at my watch. "Oh, it's 12.25."

Elliot sighs nervously. "I guess I should go up to gyno then."

"You want me to walk up with you?"

"Thanks Carla."

"What are friends for, huh?"

* * *

It took Michael and I the rest of the hour to put all the posters up about the school. It probably shouldn't have taken that long, but we were kinda messing around and – I'm not ashamed in the slightest to admit this – we were seriously making fun of Rebecca Mackenzie. It was so great, almost cathartic. I feel much better after that.

But, unfortunately, the bitch is in my French class, which is where I'm walking into now. Hopefully she won't even speak to me.

"Alyssa."

No such luck then. I turn around and look at Rebecca, who's glaring at me. And the little faction is looking at me like I'm diseased. Joy. "Yes?"

"Did you put up the posters?"

"I did."

"Good," she replies scathingly. She looks at me like I'm something she'd scrape off the bottom of her shoe and her little bitches sneer at me before turning around again.

Happy thoughts, Alyssa. Happy thoughts.

* * *

It's 12.30. I've just booked Elliot in. The receptionist gave me a weird look so I had to explain to her that I was booking my girlfriend in and she'd be here in a few minutes. She still looked at me weird, and then told me that appointments were running a few minutes behind. Typical. It's lucky though, because Elliot isn't here yet. So I sat down in the waiting room and claimed a seat for Elliot too.

It hasn't been the greatest morning. I've been nervous all morning. But, I think, hopefully, once we get past this milestone, things will be easier and I won't worry so much. Maybe Elliot will seem more excited too.

Speaking of Elliot, she's walking in just now with Carla. She seems relaxed, happy actually. Much better than she was this morning. Carla just seems to be standing in the doorway.

"So, call me later about Saturday," Carla says.

Elliot nods enthusiastically. "Yeah, totally. And thanks for earlier."

"No worries," Carla answers. "And, uh, good luck. I'm sure everything will be fine."

"Thanks."

Once Carla leaves, Elliot turns around and notices me. She smiles, and walks towards me. "Hey," she says, sitting down beside me.

I give her a quick kiss before repeating. "Hey. What's Saturday?"

"Carla was saying we could maybe go round to theirs for dinner on Saturday night. What do you think?"

"Yeah, why not?" I answer. "It'll be fun."

"We haven't been for dinner there in ages," Elliot says thoughtfully.

"Probably not since Izzy was born."

"Huh." Elliot smiles at me. "So, how's your day been?"

"It's been okay. Just glad to be here now." Yeah, I'm not telling her about my worries all day. I don't want to worry her to.

"Me too."

A minute later, a nurse steps out from one of the rooms, holding a clipboard and glancing down at it. "Elliot Reid?"

Elliot and I stand up at the same time. "That's me," she says nervously.

"Yep. You ready?" I ask.

"Yep. You?"

"I think so."

"Okay then," Elliot smiles, taking my hand in hers. "Let's go in then."

* * *

It's lunchtime, thank God. Hopefully I can catch a break without You Know Who bugging me. If I could just get away for an hour, maybe I wouldn't want to knock her head off her shoulders. I really don't like this violence I have going today. It's really not fun.

I have barely sat my ass on the seat when It comes to speak to me. I should brace myself.

"Alyssa Reid, why are you sitting there?"

Did she just _surname _me? "What the hell?" I angrily ask. "I have no idea what you're talking about!"

"You're supposed to be selling dance tickets right now!"

"No, I'm not! Madyson is!"

"Mady had somewhere else to be. She told you to sell the tickets instead."

Oh my god. "She never did. I haven't seen her since the meeting this morning."

Rebecca shakes her head censoriously. "Whatever. Just get down there and sell the tickets!" She walks away.

Happy thoughts, Alyssa. Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts.

Oh to hell with the happy thoughts! I am mad. Actually raging. I'm going to go sell the tickets, only because it might create less trouble for me, but I'm sure as hell not happy about it. Trust me, it difficult for me to not turn around right now and go knock the stuffing out of her.

My goodness, I could scream the place down I'm that mad. Who the hell does she think she is? Talking to me like that! Argh!

I'm still storming down the corridor. I'm just at the selling table when I'm stopped abruptly by someone shouting on me from behind.

"Alyssa! Hey!" It's Michael and he walks towards me. "Are you okay? You're storming down the corridor like a pissed off elephant."

"I'm going to kill her! I'm actually going to murder her."

Michael frowns and guides me to the seat behind the table. "What did she do this time?"

"Now apparently I have to sell tickets!" I shriek. "Madyson Clarke decided she can't sell the tickets today. I haven't had a break at all today."

"That sucks, I'm sorry."

"And you know, that's not even what I'm so mad about!" I continue. "It's the way she speaks to me like I'm a piece of dirt or she so much better than me! It's so infuriating. Her head's so far up her ass." Then I rest my elbows on the table, put my head in my hands and exhale loudly.

"Hey," Michael softly says. "I know, she's a bitch. She deserves to die painfully. But I really hate seeing you so pissed off and she ain't worth it."

"I hate that bitch, though."

"I know. I do too. Why don't you just refuse to do what she tell you?"

"Yeah, okay." I say almost mockingly. "You try doing that in front of her gaggle."

"I suppose. How about you just grin and bear it, I help you do the stuff and after this disco you do nothing for the Dance Committee after that?"

"Yeah, that sounds like a plan," I answer calmly. "But please don't be surprised if I kill her before hand."

"I won't be," Michael laughs. "You want a hug?" He asks, holding his arms out.

I hug him back. "Thanks," I add. "How long is it until the disco?"

"A week."

"It's so long," I melodramatically whine.

At that moment, a girl (I think she's in eight grade) walks over to the table. "Excuse me, are you two selling disco tickets?"

"Yes," Michael smiles politely. "How many would you like?"

"Two please."

"That'll be five dollars, please."

The girl hands a five-dollar bill to Michael, who then hands it to me, and smiles at me.

I have to say, I feel calmer now.

* * *

"Are you _still _looking at the picture?" I ask Elliot as I walk into the kitchen.

Elliot laughs. "Trust me, I'm going to be looking at this for a long, _long_ time yet."

We had absolutely nothing to worry about. Nothing at all. The baby is one hundred percent healthy. It has a really strong heartbeat and is growing well. Although, it does somewhat resemble a weird potato. Hey, those were Elliot's words not mine. But then she did say it was the best weird potato-looking thing she'd ever seen, so I guess that's something.

It was so strange hearing the heartbeat for the first time today. It was a feeling I can't quite explain. But it was a good feeling.

"Hey," Elliot shouts through. "Where are we on the food? Potato and I are getting hungry."

"Potato?" I repeat incredulously.

Elliot seems to mull. "Well, right now it looks like a potato. And we don't know if the baby's a boy or a girl so we can't give it a real name. And pet names for unborn babies are always cute, and Potato was the first thing that came to my head. So, yeah, Potato." She laughs a little and her own ridiculous reasoning.

I laugh with her, as I sit down beside her and hand her the apple she asked for. "Fair enough. I just wanted to know the logic."

Elliot bites in to her apple. "I have to tell you something. I was so nervous going in to the ultrasound today."

"Me too," I say honestly. "I had managed to convince myself that something was going to be wrong."

Elliot sights with relief. "Oh god, so had I. That's why I haven't seemed so excited about everything. I haven't been letting myself get too, I don't know, excited or attached because I was expecting to be devastated today," she says quietly. "But, you know, now that I've seen that everything's okay, and I've seen the baby I'm so happy and excited."

"It all feels real now, doesn't it?" I ask, looking down at the ultrasound picture.

"Yeah," Elliot smiles. "Yeah, it does."

After a few seconds of a happy hush, the calm is disturbed by the sound of the apartment door opening. Alyssa walks in, kicking her shoes off at the door. "Hey," she says tiredly. "Worst. Day. Ever," she mumbles, walking into the living room area.

"We want to hear about your crappy day, we really do," Elliot says. "But first, so as I don't like explode or something –" Elliot doesn't finish her sentence, instead holding the ultrasound picture up towards Alyssa so she can see.

"Awww," Alyssa says. Can you say 'says' if what they say isn't a recognisable word? Huh. "How cute!" Then she tilts her head to the side slightly. "Although… it… kinda looks like a potato. No offence," she contritely says.

I shrug. "None taken."

"So anyway. The bad day," Elliot states.

"So, I go to the committee meeting this morning, with the bitch from hell who decided that I have to do all the work for the disco next week, while they all sit on their bitchy asses all day and do nothing." I don't think she even took a breath there while speaking. "I have never been so angry for such a long time. I swear I would have killed someone, or myself, if Michael hadn't calmed me down, somehow."

Elliot frowns at her niece sympathetically. "Honey, I'm sorry. That must have sucked."

"Yeah it did," Alyssa mumbled unhappily.

"But look on the bright side," I optimistically add, "your can only get better."

"Hopefully." Alyssa glances to the side and then lowers her eyebrows. "Is that answering machine message button light flashing?" She walks to the machine and presses the green play button.

We all listen intently.

_"Elliot, it's your father. I was calling to invite you, Alyssa and… JD to Connecticut for Christmas. I've booked you all flights for the 20th December. Call me back for the final arrangements. Bye."_

The silence that follows is not a happy one, but more of trepidation.

"You were saying," Alyssa snarls.

Oh dear.


	19. My Blackmail

**AN:** _Hey! Hope everyone had a great Christmas. And an early Happy New Year to you all! :D Just to let you know, it is purely coincidental that this chapter is running the same time as Christmas. I didn't mean it, which is why it is slightly behind. Hope you all enjoy regardless! Please let me know what you think! :) Thanks for all the previous reviews!_

* * *

**My Blackmail**

There is a place that no Sacred Heart Hospital staff member ever wants to be; and that is sat in Dr Kelso's office asking for time off. But, alas, that is where Elliot and I are. You see, last night Elliot's dad left this message:

_"Elliot, it's your father. I was calling to invite you, Alyssa and… JD to Connecticut for Christmas. I've booked you all flights for the 20th December. Call me back for the final arrangements. Bye."_

So, that's why we're in the Devil's Lair. Trust us, we'd much rather not be here, just like we'd much rather not be going to Connecticut in the first place. Seeing Elliot's parents in October was enough to last two years, without spending Christmas with them too. That is, of course, providing Dr Kelso gives us both the time off. It's iffy.

"So you're telling me," Kelso says in his intimidating, condescending way, "that you would both like a week off over Christmas?"

Nervously, Elliot and I nod. "Yes," we simultaneously answer.

He cocks an eyebrow inquisitively. "You are aware that Christmas is that busiest time for the hospital, right?"

Elliot glances at me, as if to say this isn't going well.

"Yes, sir," we both answer again.

"And why would I do that?" He sadistically asks.

Elliot courageously sighs. "Sir, my parents invited us out to Connecticut for Christmas, and it's really important that we go out there."

"Ah yes, I suppose to tell them about the little hatchling the pair of you are expecting."

At the same time as Elliot's, my eyebrow shoot upwards. Aside from Turk and Carla, we haven't told anybody Elliot's pregnant.

"How do you know about that?" Elliot shrieks, in her painful high pitchy way. "We haven't told anybody!"

"Dr Reid, you have worked at this hospital for nearly seven years," Kelso says. "You know should have learned by now that the nurses know everything, regardless of whether you tell them."

Elliot rolls her eyes.

"So, sir, about the time off…" I tentatively continue.

"Well, there are many affecting factors here. The increased Christmas workload, the amount of cover we'll need, and Dr Reid's possible increased sick leave and eventual maternity leave…" Dr Kelso bobs his head from side to side, as if he's thinking. "Okay. I am willing to consider your request."

"Thanks you sir," we say at the same time.

But then Dr Kelso gets a mischievous glint in his eyes, which is pretty scary. "Providing you meet certain conditions."

"What kind of conditions?" I nervously question.

* * *

Monday morning. I hate Monday mornings even on an average Monday. But today, my hatred is even more so because I am once again selling the freaking disco tickets. Seriously. It's like nobody else can do it. There's something physically preventing them from doing so. Well there must be, seeing as I've done all the work. The disco is on Thursday, so I am out of it completely then. Although ten-ish days later, I'm going to Connecticut to spend Christmas with my wacky family. From one hell to another…

It hasn't been so bad though, this selling tickets thing. Michael's been a sweetheart and helped me sell them, even though the girls have been glaring at him if they walked by. But whatever.

"So when are you going to Connecticut again?" Michael asks, as he sorts some change he was given by someone who bought a disco ticket.

"The 20th," I answer, rolling my eyes. "Until the 27th, I think."

"That should be a barrel of laughs," Michael sarcastically states.

"All sarcasm aside, it could be. My aunt hasn't yet told them she's pregnant. There is an ever-so-slight chance that my grandfather will hit the roof. And his 'through the roof' reactions are so melodramatic, it's hilarious. You know, expect from the one where he's trying to murder JD with a shovel for knocking up his daughter. That one probably won't be as funny."

"Probably not."

"Alyssa." How the hell did Rebecca Mackenzie get her way over here without either of us noticing? "Tomorrow, we need you to talk in the assembly about the disco. We need more people to buy tickets. Write a quick speech tonight."

"What?" I say incredulously. "There's no way I can do that. I have dance class and a driving lesson tonight. I don't have time. Isn't there somebody else who can help?"

"No, there isn't," she cruelly. "Sorry." Then she walks away.

Before I have a chance to react, Michael speaks. "Okay, relax. It's fine, don't freak out. I will write you something for you to say tomorrow. It'll all be okay."

"Thank you _so_ much," I say sincerely. "I really could kill her."

"I know. But it's Monday today, ad it's only up until Thursday. Three days. Think about that."

I smile. "Thanks."

* * *

"Dude," Turk says, as he and Carla approach the cafeteria table I am sitting at. "I heard about the in-laws. That sucks."

I sadly sigh. "Yeah. A whole week out there with them. Talk about torture."

"So how did the meeting with Kelso go, then?" Carla asks, tilting her head to the side in that sympathetic way.

Carla's question is answered by the sound of folders being dropped full force on to the table. "Kelso just gave me all his damn paper work to do," Elliot angrily exhales as she sits down next to me at the table.

"Not well," I dryly answer Carla, looking straight at her. "He says he'll give us both the time off, providing we meet certain conditions, which we're taking to mean we'll basically be his bitches for the next little while."

Elliot nods in agreement, as she opens one of the paper folders and begins writing on the forms inside.

"Aren't you gonna have something to eat?"

Elliot raises an 'are you kidding me?' eyebrow. "Have you seen this pile of paper work? I have to have this done by three o'clock."

"You should have something to eat, though."

"I will," Elliot answers me. "Later, once I've finished this.

"This is going to be a fun few days for us, isn't it?" I mutter sarcastically.

"Oh yeah," Elliot deadpans. "It's going to be a blast."

Elliot's become a lot snappier since she fell pregnant. Oops.

"Heads up. Here comes Kelso," Turk quietly alerts us.

I mentally prepare my self for more sadism (most likely directed at me), while Elliot gets her head down and hurriedly fills out the paper.

Kelso is whistling as he moves towards our table, so we all know trouble is looming. And then he stops at the table. Here goes. He's looking down at a sheet of paper.

"Ah, Dr Dorian. Just the pair of scrubs I was looking for."

Oh great. "Yes, sir?"

"I see you don't start tomorrow until two PM?"

I think I just felt my heart sink. "Yes."

"Excellent. I need you to do something for me tomorrow morning. My dog needs to go to the vet," he smarmily smiles.

"Sir, I thought Baxter passed away."

"Oh, jeez," Elliot mutters suddenly. Okay, that wasn't a smart thing to say.

Dr Kelso's face drops and his eyes go beady. "I got a new dog, moron!"

"Yeah, you did." Stupid mistake. "What time do you want me to take your dog to the vet?"

"Pick him up at eight!" Dr Kelso grins, before walking away.

"Yup, Carla mutters. "You're definitely his bitches now."

* * *

Tuesday. Two days until the hell is O.V.E.R. I cannot wait. Except right now, I'm standing in front of easily five hundred people telling them about the disco on Thursday. Thank goodness Michael wrote this speech for me, because I never would have thought of half of this stuff off the top of my head. I just have my closing sentence to say now and them I'm done.

"Tickets cost two dollars fifty and all proceeds go towards the senior charity. Thank you."

As I step away from the podium, the principal step to it and begins instructing the different classes to leave the hall. While this is happening, I have my back to the auditorium, putting on my coat.

"Hey," I hear from behind me. "Not bad for a speech you'd never seen before," Kate says. She's standing with Michael.

"Thanks," I reply. "I didn't seem to nervous or jittery, did I?"

"No, you were… you were great," Michael smiles.

"Thanks."

Hmm. Kate has a very weird look on her face. "Anyway," she says, "I gotta get to class. See you both later." She hurries off.

"Bye," I respond, but I'm not sure if she heard me. "So I really wasn't that bad then?" I ask Michael once Kate is away out of the hall.

"You weren't bad at all. Oh, heads up, here comes trouble."

I turn around and walking towards me is Rebecca. Oh joy. And she's got her little vindictive face on.

"This will end well," I quietly mutter to Michael, under my breath.

"Not bad," Rebecca reluctantly says. "You could have projected you voice more."

"No, I didn't. I had a microphone." Seriously.

"Well, I just wanted remind you that you've to do the accounting after school today."

"What? Since when?" I ask resentfully.

"Always. Make sure you're there." Then she walks away.

"You know, you're welcome for the speech," I sarcastically say as she walks away. "Can you believe that?"

Michael is looking at me weirdly. "Why didn't you stand up for yourself?"

"It's not worth it," I answer honestly. "No matter how much I protest, I still get nowhere. It's not worth wasting the energy."

"If you say so." It's clear from his tone that he doesn't agree with me.

"So, you wanna help me total up the money tonight? Keep me company?" I ask.

"Yeah, sure."

* * *

Something I've discovered today: the nurses' station is surprisingly comfortable to rest your head on, especially when you got up at the crack of dawn to take your blackmailing boss' dog to the vet.

"Ow…" I mutter quietly.

When I glance up, Carla is looking down at me, shaking her head. "What happened with the dog?"

"Well, first, it threw up in Elliot's car, then in the vets' office the dog tried to maul a cat."

Carla's eyes go really wide. "It tried to maul a cat? That poor kitty."

"I know. The cat's owner wasn't exactly happy either."

"And it threw up in Elliot's car? That's disgusting."

"Yeah. And she doesn't know about it yet, so keep schtum until I have a chance to, um, de-vomit-smell the car."

"Ew." Carla responds, scrunching up her face.

I nod in agreement.

Before anything else is said, Elliot walks to the nurses' station. "Well, there goes my day off," she resentfully says. "Dr Kelso wants me to take Enid to an art exhibition for seniors tomorrow."

Carla rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

"This sucks," Elliot continues. "I was so looking forward to having a relaxing day at home."

"I'm really sorry," I say, hugging her.

"Hopefully, it won't go on for too much longer," Carla optimistically says.

"Yeah." Then Elliot's pager beeps. "I gotta go," she says quietly, before walking away. "Hey, hold up," she says, turning back around. "I went down to my car to find a sweater earlier, and I could have sworn it smelled like vomit."

"Really?" I ask incredulously. "I didn't notice anything this morning."

"Hmm," Elliot says slowly. "Weird. Anyway, see you later."

"Bye." When I turn around to face Carla, she's shaking her head at me. "Oh, shut up."

* * *

"So, would you rather be eaten by a vampire, or freeze to death, lying on the North Pole ice, in the scud?"

Michael raises a sarcastic eyebrow. "Could you have picked a more random question?"

Instead of counting up the money, we're sitting in the study room having what is quite clearly the weirdest conversation ever. It's fun.

"Just answer the damn question!" I instruct him with mock intimidation.

Rolling his eyes, Michael shakes his head. "Okay…" he ponders. "I would rather freeze on the ice?"

"Why?"

"Because maybe then I'd, like, help an animal or something," Michael answers. "Like, maybe a polar bear might wander by and feast on my carcass."

I laugh. "How very noble of you."

"Okay then, Sarcasma Reid," Michael replies.

"Sarcasma Reid. What the hell?"

"What would you pick?" Michael asks. Ha. Ignored.

"Hmm…. Definitely eaten by vampires."

Michael looks like me as if I'm strange. "Why?"

"I hate the cold," I shrug. "And plus, there's something oddly hot about vampires."

"Vampires?" He repeats incredulously. "Okay, then at the next fancy dress event, remind me to dress up as a vampire then."

"Fair enough," I laugh. "God, this accounting is so boring."

"Then don't do it," Michael simply answers. "It's not like you haven't done enough for them already."

"I guess you're right," I tentatively agree. "But won't Rebecca send her fleas to attack me?"

"Come on, what can she do to you, really?" Michael stand up and walks towards my chair. Then he bends down to my eye level. "Besides. You could kick her ass any day." As I laugh, he moves to the back of my wheeled chair and starts pulling it across the study room towards the door.

"So where are we going?" I ask, still laughing.

"The mall, the ice rink. Wherever you want." He spins the chair around so I'm facing him. "Come on," Michael says enticingly. "You know you want to…"

"Fine," I answer with mock reluctance. "Just let me lock this back in the cabinet so I don't get eaten alive for letting someone steal all the money."

"I thought you liked getting eaten alive by vampires?"

"Boy vampires, you moron!" I say, as I close the study room door behind me.

* * *

Seven AM is a fairly hectic time in Elliot's house. On a normal day, you have Alyssa running around like a maniac trying to get everything together for school, me trying to make sure breakfast is ready for everyone, and you've also got Elliot trying to keep her breakfast down. It's crazy.

Alyssa steps out of her room and looks around hurriedly. "Uh… has anybody seen my Chemistry book by any chance?"

I glance at the table and to the blue hard-backed workbook that sits on it. "This what you're looking for?" I ask, lifting it up.

"That's the one!" Alyssa responds with relief. "Thanks." She grabs the book off of me before rushing back to her room.

"Flying visit," I mutter quietly to myself.

A few seconds later, Elliot walks into the living room. "Morning," she says glumly.

"Hey," I reply. "What would you like for breakfast?"

Elliot winces. "Nothing. There's no way I could stomach any food right now."

"Oh. Feeling that bad?" I sympathetically ask.

"Yeah," Elliot replies. "I could kill for a camomile tea right now."

"One camomile tea coming right up," I quietly mumble.

"I really could just stay at home today, but I have to take Dr Kelso's wife to that exhibit. This is going to be awful."

As I walk through to the living room, carrying a cup of camomile tea, I say, "Maybe it won't be so bad."

Elliot lowers her eyebrows as she sips her tea. "It's something Kelso has asked me to do. It's going to be hell, I just know it." Elliot exhales loudly, and runs her hand though her unbrushed hair. "I don't think I can handle much more of Kelso's blackmail bull. But if either of us says anything, he'll just say we can't have the week off. It's like we're caught between a rock and a hard place."

"It sucks," I agree. "But what can we really do? It can't really go on for much longer. We're supposed to leave in less than a fortnight. He can't blackmail us after that."

"I guess," Elliot says, with a slight hint of reluctance. "Grin and bear it?"

"Yeah."

Elliot sighs. "On second thoughts," she says as Alyssa once again walks into the living room, "Do we _really_ need to visit my parents? Can't we just wait for them to randomly show up in like, three years and explain everything then?"

Alyssa tilts her head to the side. "Jeez, I'm just imaging Granddad's face if you did that," she lowly says. "Yep. It's hilarious and results in you getting your ass kicked," she elaborates, gesturing towards Elliot.

I laugh slightly.

"I don't know why you're laughing," Alyssa mockingly buts in. "He murders you."

"He's probably gonna murder me whenever he gets told," I reply. "I laugh to hide my fear."

Alyssa nods. "Nice."

I glance at Elliot, who is looking curiously at Alyssa's outfit.

"I don't mean to critique the outfit, I really don't," Elliot says, "but won't you freeze in a skirt? It's December."

"No," Aly answers nervously. "It… still kinda feels like summer to me."

"Yeah, sure," Elliot answers, clearly not buying what Alyssa said. "At least you're wearing tights. You're not totally mad. Close to it, but not totally."

Alyssa rolls her eyes. "Quick question: how killed do you think I will be by the end of the day when Rebecca Mackenzie discovers that I ditched my accountancy duties in favour of hanging out at the mall with Michael?"

Elliot shakes her head. "We have no idea what you're on about, 'cause y'know, we've barely seen you all week."

"Sorry," Alyssa contritely says. "I've just had a million and one things going wrong at school. The dance committee has had me do all the work because apparently I'm still the new girl. It's been a giant pain in the ass, so I ditched the work yesterday in protest."

"Good on you," I nod. "You shouldn't let yourself be walked over."

"JD's right," Elliot adds. "It's not fair to you. You did the right thing."

"Then why do I feel totally ashamed that I did that?"

"You shouldn't," Elliot answers. "You worry too much, honey."

"Yeah, what can she do to you, really?"

"I guess," Alyssa semi-reluctantly says. "It's her little gaggle that irritate me too. They're extremely well practiced in the art of the burning."

"Just ignore them, and don't worry about her," Elliot says sympathetically. "I know that's easier said than done, but you just gotta ignore them. They're just kissing the ass of that Rebecca girl anyway."

"Yeah. They probably wouldn't even think to say anything to you if she wasn't around."

"Hopefully."

As the room quietens, there's a knock on the front door.

Alyssa stands up. "I'll get it."

"I certainly do not miss high school," I quietly whisper.

"Me neither." Elliot shakes her head. "Hey, who was at the door?" She says as Alyssa walks back to the living room.

"Mr Kellerman from downstairs. This letter from you was in his mail box," Alyssa explains as she hands the envelope over.

Elliot furrows her eyebrows. "I think that's my Dad's handwriting," she mutters as she tears the envelope open. "It's the plane tickets."

"Oh joy," Alyssa deadpans.

"We're leaving on the 20th of December, returning on the 27th," Elliot says.

"A whole week with your parents?" I question. "Ouch."

"You're gonna get your ass kicked a _lot_ that week," Alyssa shakes her head.

"Thanks," I dryly retort. "Really."

Alyssa shrugs. "I do what I do."

* * *

Okay, so you know how Elliot and JD were telling me that Rebecca and her little gang couldn't really do anything to me and not to worry? Yeah? Well that is out of the window. Completely. You see, there was a little note for me in registration. _Urgent Dance Meeting. Lunchtime. You _must_ be there. _So, clearly I'm going to get my backside handed to me on a plate.

"I knew going out yesterday was going to come back and bite me on the ass. I should never have done that."

"Yeah, you should have," Kate replies. "The girl's a bitch."

"But now her and her gaggle are going to eat me alive. They're going to make my life hell."

"No they won't," Michael says soothingly. "You didn't do anything wrong. All you did was take a bit of a stand about the way they've been treating you. All you do is stay strong, explain why you did what you did, and all will be fine."

I raise a dubious eyebrow.

"Okay. Want me to come in with you?"

Yes. Yes, I do. But that wouldn't exactly but on a strong show for the Brat Pack, would it? "No. I'll be okay. I think…"

"Well, Kate and I will be out here for you," he smiles.

"Thanks," I say, as I head towards the door.

"Good luck," Kate offers.

"Thanks. I'll need it." Okay, so the god-luck-wishing didn't exactly do much for my confidence, but nevertheless, I appreciate the sentiment.

As soon as I ajar the study room door, I swear I can feel all their eyes burning on me. It's horrible. When I raise my head, they are glaring at me. Really. The only thing that resembles the level of glare these idiots are giving me is when my granddad uses his Truth Glare to pull the truth out of us. And that glare is terrifying enough without multiplying it by eleven.

And as if the glaring isn't bad enough, Rebecca has just disgustedly looked my outfit up and down. "I was unaware that short skirts were appropriate school wear. I must have missed that letter."

"And I must have missed the letter that said my wardrobe choice was any of your concern," I sarcastically retort as I take my seat.

"Now, on to the real issue," Rebecca says. "It has come to my attention that certain people are slacking on their assigned tasks."

"And since nobody else has been assigned any tasks, I'm going to take a guess and say you mean me. I have been slacking on my assigned tasks." Dear god, those words left my mouth before I even had a chance to think about what I was saying. Oh well.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I was referring to you, Alyssa," Rebecca scornfully retorts. " I specifically instructed you to count the ticket money."

"Just like you instructed me to make and pin up the advertising posters, give an assembly speech, not to mention giving up every break and lunchtime I've had for the last week and a half to sell the tickets, which I also had to prepare, by the by, in case you've forgotten. I've done all that while all the rest of your little contingent sat on their asses and did nothing, and you're giving me attitude about not doing one thing?"

"It's ridiculous that Caitlyn had to give up her free time before registration to do the work that you should have done."

I cannot believe this. "If you'd been fairer when you gave people tasks to do, then I wouldn't have just ditched the work in the first place."

Rebitcha shakes her head. "Since Caitlyn had to take over your job, you'll be the one to get the food. You have to go to Costco and but the potato chips and soda."

I swear, I can just about feel my blood boiling. "No."

"_Excuse me?"_

"No," I repeat. "I've had it up to the eyeballs with you and your favouritism bull. I'm sick of doing every single task when you have eleven other people doing nothing. And sure as hell you'll take all the credit for this, even though you've basically done bugger all except tell me what to do. I've had enough."

Okay, the evil glare has returned. "You'll do what I ask you to, or I'll report you to the principal for refusing to participate in the senior committees."

"You know what, screw you." I just walk out of the room because if I stay ion there I'll do something I'll really regret later.

I think I'm doing some elephant-esque storming down the corridor again. I round a corner and see Michael and Kate waiting on me.

"I will kill her. I will _actually_ kill her!"

Michael and Kate both have concerned looks on their faces.

"What did she do?" Kate quickly asks.

"Because I didn't do the accounting last night, she's telling me I have to go to Costco tonight to get all the food, and if I don't she's going to report me to the principal for not cooperating with senior committees. Like I haven't done enough work as it already is."

"That's bull!" Kate disgustedly replies. "If I were you I would have decked her one by now."

"Which is exactly why I walked out. Can you imagine the act she'd pull if I had actually punched her?"

"True. But at least you'd feel much better."

I sigh. "What am I gonna do? I'm screwed either way."

"Would you excuse me for just a few minutes?" Michael says quietly. He walks away, in the direction of the study room.

"Hey, where are you going?" Michael doesn't answer me, so I turn to Kate. "Where is he going?"

"How the hell would I know?"

Kate and I follow Michael down the corridor.

"Is he going into the study room?" I tentatively ask Kate.

Kate nods. "I think so."

"Oh dear god."

"This is gonna end well," Kate oh-so-ironically says.

Kate and I hide just around the corner, so as we can still hear what's going on but nobody can actually see us listening.

"Hey, Rebecca," Michael says. He sounds pissed. "Can I have a quick word?"

"Of course," Rebecca responds cheerily. "What's up, Michael?"

"Sure, she's nice to him," I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Shh!" Kate chastisingly utters.

"I'm here about the disco," Michael continues.

"It's turning into such a hassle. I am getting nothing but attitude from Alyssa Reid."

"Yeah, I'm actually here about Alyssa. Now, she's too nice a person to say it to your face, but you are a complete and utter bitch. Who the hell do you think you are telling her what she has to do?"

"Well, I am the chair person of the Dance Committee."

"And the only reason you are chair person is because of a stupid popularity contest based on how much a slut you are."

Kate looks shocked. "Oh, that had to hurt."

"Excuse me!" Yes, Rebecca was offended.

"You know, you could not function without your little posse behind you to make you seem intimidating, but you're not. You're just a sad little cow who gets her kicks out of making someone else feel bad. And this times you chose Alyssa because she's still new around here and you knew she wouldn't be completely able to call you on your crap. But not me. I've been putting up with your malevolence since I was five years old and I've had enough of it, and when you hurt one of my best friends, it's makes me just as mad as if you were hurting me. You might think you're something special because of your false popularity, but let me tell you something. Alyssa is twenty times the person you're ever gonna be. So can shove your dance committee and your bitchy arrogance up your ass. And if you don't get off Alyssa's case, I will make your life so hellish, you're gonna wish you'd never started stealing my lunch money in elementary school."

Before Michael walks back over to where Kate and I are standing, I quietly say to Kate: "Is this an appropriate time to use the phrase 'holy frick'?"

"It is," Kate responds, with the same tone of bewilderment as me.

"Holy frick."

* * *

"Hey," Ted says in his usual gloomy tone. After at least seven years at this hospital, you don't expect anything less from him. "Dr Kelso gave me some more paper work we have to complete."

"Fantastic."

My blackmail task for Thursday, it appears, is to spend all day with Ted doing clerical work. I started at 8.30. It's now 2.00. And while, after a few years, you don't expect anything other than Ted's depressive nature, spending all day with him can make you want to kill yourself.

I look at the pile of paper work that Ted has put on to his desk. "Jeez, how much of this does Kelso have."

"A lot," Ted dully answers. "I think he's been saving it all up for when somebody asks him for something."

"That would explain a lot about this week," I mumble, more for my benefit than Ted's.

"So, you and Dr Reid are having a baby, huh?" Ted asks in omni-monotonous tone.

So much for the 'not telling anyone yet' plan Elliot and I originally had. "Yeah. Yeah we are."

"You know, my ex-wife had a baby with her best friend."

Oh god, it's another ex-wife story. "That's… that's nice…"

"He has an afro…" Ted runs his hand subconsciously over his shiny, bald head. I wonder how depressing it is being him. Really.

After a few minutes of silence, I pick up yet another folder and open it. "What's this?" I quietly say to myself, as I open the binder. "Okay, pretending _not_ to see what appears to a masseuse catalogue. How does that guy get away with being so disgusting?"

"I don't know," Ted dryly replies.

Shortly after Ted speaks, there is a knock at his door.

Ted's eyes go wide. "I never get visitors," he amazedly says. "Okay, just be cool…" The door is barely open when he throws his arms around the person on the other side.

"Um… hi. Hi Ted," Elliot awkwardly says, as she throws me some confused looks. "Okay, Ted, you can let me go now."

He does. "Hi Dr Reid. Thank you for stopping by," Ted says, reverting to his regular tone. He sits back down at his desk and continues with his share of the paper work.

"Hey," Elliot cheerily speaks, semi-waving at me at the same time. "Carla told me you were in here, so I brought you some lunch."

"Thank you," I reply as I take the sandwich from her.

"So you got stuck doing paperwork all day, then?"

"I did, indeed," I say dryly. "It's so boring. But it has answered a lot of questions about where the hospital budget is actually spent." I hold up a leaflet that shows a set of golf clubs.

Elliot sighs. "Trust me, you got the easy job today. I've spent the day taking care of really pervy patients. They keep trying to smack my ass when I give them sponge baths." Elliot shudders.

"Oh my god," I respond.

Before anything more is said, Ted holds out a bag of chewy sweets. "Would you like one?"

"Yes please."

After I take a chew, Ted points the bag in Elliot's direction.

"Oh god, no," she cringes. "Trust me, after putting Enid Kelso's false teeth backing in after they were dislodged by a toffee, I will never eat chewy sweets again."

"I put my mom's false teeth back in once," Ted glumly offers. "She bit my fingers and wouldn't let them out of her mouth."

I think Elliot physically held back vomit.

"That's disgusting," I say.

"It didn't feel right…"

"Anyway," I change the subject, "Your pervy patients."

"Yeah," Elliot sighs, shaking her head. "I think Kelso might have paid all the local perverts to come in today. It makes my skin crawl. Three more hours, fantastic." So much sarcasm.

"You know," I ponderingly say, "Kelso didn't say we had to stick to the tasks he gave us. You want to stay here and do paperwork and I take care of your patients?"

"Gladly," Elliot quickly answers, handing over a stack of charts. "Really watch out for Mr Adams in 206. I don't think he cares who he tries to fondle."

"Thanks for the warning," I uncertainly respond.

A second later, Elliot's pager beeps. "Oh, speak of the devil."

"Well, I guess I should go meet my new patient then."

"Good luck," Elliot says, after she gives me a kiss.

"Thanks. I'll meet you downstairs for going home, okay?"

Elliot says goodbye, just as I leave the room and close the door behind me.

Okay, here goes.

* * *

And after two weeks of bitchiness, unpleasantness and general hellishness, it is disco night. And I am loving it.

"Wow," Kate says, impressed. "Someone's in an oddly good mood. I'm surprised you even showed up tonight."

"Hey, I practically organised this thing single-handedly," I cheerily reply. "I am damn sure gonna enjoy myself."

"Nice one." Kate holds up her palm, which I high-five. "Heads up, here comes trouble," she quietly utters.

I turn around and notice that Rebecca Mackenzie (who hasn't spoken to me at all since yesterday, by the by) walking towards me with her head bowed.

"Hi, Alyssa," she quietly says.

"What do you want?" I snappily retort.

Kate raises a pleased eyebrow.

I shrug as if to say I don 't care.

"I just…" Rebecca continues, "I just wanted to say I'm sorry for the way we were treating you on the committee. That was wrong of me, and I apologise profusely. And I like to invite you back to the dance committee if you'd like to come back." She's still looking down at the ground.

"Shove it up your ass," I venomously answer. "Now beat it."

"Yeah…" Rebecca walks away, still with her head bowed.

As soon as Rebecca is out of earshot, Kate starts speaking. "Hells. Yeah. Somebody got her sass on!"

"Oh my god!" I say, laughing. "Did you see that?! She couldn't even look at me!"

"It was awesome." Kate shakes her head disbelievingly.

"I _still _can't believe Michael stood up for me like that."

Kate pulls a face. "I can."

"Do you think I should get him something in return?" I ask her. "I think I should get him something."

"Looking at your outfit," Kate looks me up and down, "I think you already did."

"Okay, what's is wrong with my little black dress?" I ask Kate.

"Nothing, exactly," she answers. "It's just _really_ little."

"No it's not," I defensively laugh. "It's no littler than what you're wearing."

Kate nods. "Well played."

"Hey, hey!" Michael walks to where Kate and I are standing. "Someone's looking happier," he remarks, looking at me.

"Damn right I am, and you know what, I wanna dance!"

Kate shakes her head. "Oh dear God."

"Somebody come dance with me!" I say, jumping up and down ever so slightly.

Michael rolls his eyes, but he's laughing at the same time. "Fine. _I'll_ dance with you," he answers with mock reluctance.

"And that, my friend, is why you rock!" I grab Michael's hand, and lead him towards the dance hall.

Just before we walk into the dance hall, I glance back at Kate, who's just shaking her head.

I don't know why she keeps doing that.

* * *

Friday morning. For today, I've been given Elliot's pervy patients. Kelso had such a sadistic smirk on his face when he gave me the charts. What he didn't know, however, is Elliot and I switched patients, so they were no real surprise to me. Unfortunately they still do disgust me.

"How does a young doctor get such a cute ass?" Mr Adams says, looking at, you guessed it, my rear end.

Exhibit A through Z.

"Mr Adams," I say, completely ignoring what he said, "Your fever has completely stabilised. You'll be discharged today." Thank God.

Before Mr Adams says anything, my pager beeps.

_Dr Kelso's office. Now._

Fantastic.

"Goodbye, Mr Adams."

As soon as I turn around to walk out of the room, Mr Adams slaps me on the ass. That was disgusting.

Ignoring him completely as I walk out of the room… And I'm out of there.

"That guy is a _freak show_!" I explain, once the door is closed.

"Mr Adams?" Turk asks from the Nurses' Station. "What did he to you?"

"He smacked my ass!"

Carla nods. "He groped one of my nurses earlier."

"Why is he still here?" Turk incredulously questions.

"He won't be for much longer. Carla, could you please find the discharge forms for Mr Adams?"

"Why can't you do it?" Carla queries.

"I have to go to Kelso's office. Now."

Turk smiles optimistically. "Maybe he's gonna give you the time off and he'll stop torturing the two of you."

"Hopefully," I respond. "Okay. I better go."

"Good luck, Bambi."

"Thanks."

It doesn't take me long to walk to Kelso's office. It is just a bit further down the hall, after all. When I reach the office, Elliot is already standing at the door. "

"So he paged you too?" Elliot asks. "I don't know whether to take that as a good sign or not."

"Me neither."

Elliot gently knocks on Kelso's door and opens it after she hears Kelso say 'Come in' from the other side of the door.

"Here goes," Eliot whispers as she opens the door.

Dr Kelso looks up from his paper work when he hears the door opening. "Dr Reid, Dr Dorian," Kelso grins. It's quite disconcerting. "Please, take a seat."

Elliot and I do, without exchanging any words.

"Now I suppose you're wondering about that request for time off the two of you made."

"Yes, sir, we are," I answer.

"Ah, yes," Kelso smiles. Wait… or is that a smirk of sadism? Keep with the optimism. "I have thought about your request for time off very seriously. And taking all things into consideration," Kelso pauses. "I can only afford to let one doctor away over the holidays. Decide between yourselves which one of you goes." His smile disappears and he glares at us. "Get the hell out of my office! Now!"

* * *

"So word about the school is that we made four hundred dollars from the disco last night," Kate says, as we walk along the school corridor.

"Hmm."

"Uh…. Alyssa, are you okay?" asks Kate. "You've been quiet and weird all morning."

I shake my head. "Sorry, my mind is just a million miles away," I quietly reply.

"Come to think of it," Kate pensively and slowly adds, "you were weird yesterday at the disco."

I laugh nervously. "I was? I didn't notice."

"So… are you okay?" She questions once again.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I'm… it's nothing."

"If you're sure," Kate replies. "You know how I'm singing a solo in the Christmas Concert?"

"Yeah."

"I have after-school rehearsals all of next week. Are you coming to the concert, by the way?"

"I don't think so. I think I have to leave early for Connecticut."

Kate frowns. "Dude, you're missing out! I don't know what the last day of term concert was like at your old school, but here it's awesome. It's the one day we all get to go nuts and just rock out."

"Cool. Sucks I'll miss it." A thought occurs to me. "Where are we going?"

Kate furrows her eyebrows. "I have no idea. Oh, there's Michael."

"Michael?" Oh god, oh god, oh god.

And she's walking over to him. "Hey, dude," she says. "How's it going? Nobody saw you after the disco last night. Where did you go?"

"I, uh, had to go home early," he answers. Michael glances at me, then quickly looks back down at the floor.

Kate looks curiously between Michael and I. "Didn't you leave early too?"

She knows fine well that I left early. "Yes."

"Why?"

"I, um, wasn't feeling too good."

Kate nods, but her face is contorted. "Right."

"So um…" Michael quietly says, "I have to go to the reprographer. I'll, um… bye." He doesn't look at me before walking away down the corridor. Okay, to be fair, I didn't exactly look at him either.

"Okay, what the hell was that?" Kate asks once Michael is out of earshot. At least I hope he's out of earshot.

"What was what?" I try to sound nonchalant.

"The tension, the awkwardness, the inability to look each other in the eye?"

Uh-oh. Busted. There's only one thing I can do here. "What awkwardness? There was no awkwardness." That's right. Lie.

"Oh, shut up." Kate starts dragging me by the arm down the corridor.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

"Shht."

"I so do not like you when you do stuff like this," I mutter, annoyed.

Kate hauls me through a door into… the girls' bathroom. What the?

"Okay, there's nobody here," she states. "Come on, there's clearly something going on between the two of you."

I nod. "It was so stupid."

"I bet it wasn't," Kate comfortingly responds. "So, what happened?"

"Well…"

**In the hall, Michael and Alyssa are dancing slowly, but not particularly listening to the music. Alyssa has her hands on Michael's shoulders and Michael's hands are around her waist. Both are fairly tired, having energetically danced to anything and everything that the DJ has played.**

**Alyssa shakes her head slightly. "I still can't believe you stood up for me like that in front of Rebecca," she says, with the same air of incredulity and amazement as she has had for the previous two days.**

"**It was nothing," Michael replies. **

"**Shut up, it was **_**not **_**nothing! You knocked the biggest bitch in school down about seventy-two pegs!"**

"**Yeah, well. She deserved it."**

"**Thank you," Alyssa smiles.**

**In silence, the pair continues dancing, swaying gently from side to side. As the song plays, their grip on each other seems to tighten and their bodies move closer together until their faces are mere millimetres apart. Their lips meet and neither breaks away.**

"Oh my god," Kate says. "You kissed?"

"Yeah," I nod.

Kate sighs with relief. "I have to say it: Finally!"

"Excuse me?"

"Come on," she states. "Everyone knows you two have been dancing around each other for weeks. Months, even. It's so obvious. You like him, he likes you."

"Oh really?" I angrily question. "It's that obvious. Then why the hell hasn't he spoken to me since last night?"

"He's probably just scared to," Kate replies calmly. "What happened after you kissed?"

"Well, when we both realised what we were doing, we both freaked out and went in opposite directions," I sigh heavily. "What if he never talks to me again?"

"He will," Kate reassuringly replies.

"I doubt it. He wouldn't even look at me in the corridor."

"You couldn't look at him either. You spent the whole time looking at the wall."

"I know."

"Why didn't you look at him?"

Shaking my head, I answer: "I couldn't. When I saw him in the corridor, I got freaked out and embarrassed again."

"You know, he was probably feeling just the same as you. Think about it," she says. "He just kissed his best friend. She got freaked out, they haven't spoken since. He really likes her but he doesn't know if she likes him and he's scared to talk to her in case he gets shot down in flames," Kate concluded. "Sound familiar?"

"Completely."

"See? You're both just scared," Kate quietly says. "So… do you like him?"

"Yeah," I reply. "Yeah, I really do."

"There you go. So you gonna talk to him?"

"I have to. But what if he shoots me down?"

Kate laughs. "Not gonna happen. Trust me."

"Thanks," I smile.

"Anytime."

* * *

Elliot and I had dinner with Turk and Carla tonight. Although, it became more of a 'rant about Kelso' occasion.

"We should have seen it coming," Elliot begrudgingly says. "He is Kelso, after all. He's Satan."

We're just home and we're still talking about him. "You know what pisses me off the most? He made us do all that extra work when he knew all along he was only going to let you go."

"He's evil," Elliot responds. "It's probably for the best though. My dad wasn't exactly your biggest fan the last time. Can you imagine what he'll be like when I tell him I'm pregnant? At least this way I'll be able to give you advance warning when he leaves to kill you."

"One advantage, I suppose."

"And get this," Elliot brightly continues, "I'll tell him you're in Alaska when really you'll be in Hawaii." She frowns. "This sucks. It's our first Christmas together and we're not even spending it together. And next year we'll have the baby, so that will be crazy. I just either both of us were going or neither of us."

"Same here." After a few seconds, I ask a question. "Will your family really fly off the handle when you tell them about the baby?"

Elliot sighs. "I don't think my mom will. Of course, she'll be making some sort of reference to me 'finally popping one out' the whole time. My dad will probably be pretty angry though. He'll keep giving me the out of wedlock lecture. That will be fun for me."

"Your dad will be like that?"

"Yeah. It's going to be so infuriating though. My family are just so hypocritical. You're lucky your family aren't as uptight as mine."

"Hmm," is my simple response. "Do you want… do you think we should get married?"

Elliot lowers her eyebrows. "Because we're having a baby?"

"Yeah."

Elliot shakes her head. "No. I don't think we should get married just because we're having a baby. It's too much for us. If we get married it should be because we want to and because we're ready. We're not ready. Not right now."

"That's fair," I reply.

"Look, I'm not saying never," she adds. "I'm just saying not right now. I just think we should concentrate on the baby for now, okay?"

I smile. "Yeah."

"And my dad will just have to accept that it's my life. He'll probably still give me the lecture a hundred million times, but it doesn't matter what he says because I know what's best for us," she explains. "You, me and our baby." Elliot sighs, and then stands up. "I'm going to get a drink. Do you want anything while I'm up?"

"No thanks."

As Elliot walks by, I take a look at her stomach. She has a bit of a bump now. There's no denying she's pregnant, so I'd imagine she'll have to tell her parents pretty soon into the visit.

That makes me think. I reach over and grab the phone.

"What are you doing?" Elliot asks when she walks back into the room and I dial a number into the phone.

"I, um… I'm calling Dan. I thought I'd tell him about the baby."

"Please don't," Elliot quickly replies. "Please, can you not tell your family until I've had a chance to tell mine. My family know a lot of people and I don't want it to get back to them before I've had a chance to tell them."

"You get that that's crazy, right?"

Elliot shrugs. "Yes, I'm clinically insane."

"But okay. I won't tell my family until you've told yours if it makes you feel better. I'll tell my family after Christmas."

Elliot smiles. "Thanks."

"But I do think we should have your insanity checked!

"Sure!"

* * *

I didn't see Michael again after the incident in the corridor. There was a lot going on of Friday and I just didn't see him anywhere. That wasn't really a big deal though. This isn't really a conversation I'd have wanted to have at school anyway.

So, I texted him later that night and asked him if I could go over tonight, and surprisingly he replied. And here I am, waiting on somehow to answer Michael's door.

It's weird. I've been here more times than I can count, but I'm so nervous this time. Why does it feel like it's taking an eternity for someone to answer this freaking door? Oh, here we go.

It's Michael's mom. "Oh, hi Alyssa," she smiles. "Are you looking for Michael?"

"Yeah."

"He's upstairs, hon. Just go up," she says, stepping aside to let me in.

"Thanks."

Like I said, I've been here a more time than I can count. I've basically been here at some point for one reason or another nearly every weekend. I know my way round this house like I know the back of my hand. You know, I've never really understood that expression. Because nobody _really_ knows the back of their hand. Does anybody really spend all that much time studying the back of their hands to say they really know them? It's like saying – dear god, Alyssa, shut up! I'm mentally rambling. I tend to do that when I'm nervous. I apologise.

And now I'm standing outside Michael's bedroom door. Seems like I've spent a lot of time waiting outside doors today. Now, three minutes ago, earlier on when I stood outside the main apartment block door because I could not, for the life of me, remember what the code is. Luckily, Mr Masood from the sixth floor was leaving and I'm doing it again. My annoying mental rambling again. I should really work on that.

Anyway. Here goes. I softly knock on Michael's bedroom door. "Michael, it's me. It's Alyssa. Can I come in?"

"Of course." Well, he seems happy enough.

I gently open the door and walk into the room. Michael is sitting at his desk, apparently tidying something up. He puts something into an envelope before turning around to face me.

"Hey," I say, closing the door behind me. "Sorry I'm a bit late. I had a bit of a disaster trying to get into my building. I forgot the key code, so I had to sit outside for a half hour until someone else left," I explain with a slight laugh at the conclusion.

Michael gives me a weird look. "Why didn't you just call Elliot and ask her what the code was?"

"Why the hell _didn't_ I do that?"

Michael laughs. "You are a strange, strange girl. I wonder about you sometimes, I really do."

"Yeah, you probably should," I jokingly reply.

And then it goes silent and kid of awkward again. Kind of like it did in the corridor.

"So… um…you know what, sooner or later, one of us has to broach the subject of Thursday night," Michael quietly says, looking down at the ground again.

"I think you just did," my voice shakes. Damn stomach butterflies. "Can I say something really quickly before I completely lose my nerve or, you know, vomit or something?"

Michael laughs at me, but not in a nasty way. "Go ahead."

Here goes, again. "So, you know how we sort of made out at the disco? Well, not sort of, because that was definitely making out, but you know what I mean, right? Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that, I really like you. And not just in the friend way. Even thought you are my friend. You're my best friend, and you're one of the kindest, funniest, sweetest guys I've ever known. Not to mention that you're really hot, kinda like that guy who was in Harry Potter. But not like he was in that Twilight film. The white make up creeped me out. So anyway, what I'm saying is I like you in not just the friend way, but in _that_ way, you know, the 'I'd really like it if you were my boyfriend way' and I'm really sorry I got all weird and embarrassed in the corridor yesterday, it wasn't because I was embarrassed 'cause it actually happened, it was because I wasn't sure if you would like me in the way I like you and then I talked to Kate who told me some of the things that you said to her about liking me, and I'm really hoping she wasn't just taking the mick out of me then because I really do like you and if you're making any sense of this I will give you a gold star and after all this I'm gonna leave now because you probably think I'm insane. Goodbye. I'll be seeing you later." I turn and head towards the door.

"Alyssa, wait, you don't… you're not… don't go."

"Well, do you have a glass of water or something? I feel like I'm going collapse after that!"

Michael looks around his room, before passing me a bottle of water that was sitting on his desk. "Yeah, when you said 'say something really quickly', you meant saying it _really_ quickly, didn't you?"

"It's a nervous habit, I apologise."

Michael chuckled. "Don't apologise. I think it's really cute when you do that."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Then he does something really weird. He puts his arm around me. It's not the arm around me that's the weird part, because we're always hugging each other. But it doesn't feel the same. It's something completely different, but I can't quite explain what it is. "And if I'd know you were going to say all that first," Michael continues, "I probably _still_ would have spent all afternoon write a similar, albeit more concise, version in this card." Michael hands me the envelope he had when I first walked in.

I carefully tear it open, and remove a small card, which is designed with little pink love hearts and teddy bears. "Aww, that's cute," I quietly murmur, before opening the card and reading it. "Alyssa, I really wish I was actually saying this to you, but I'll get all weird again and chicken out. So I was just really hoping that you would consider going out with me in the boyfriend/girlfriend sense? Because I like you. And I know this card is probably the lamest thing you've ever read, but everything else I've tried writing sounds even more lame. Sorry. Michael," I conclude, having read the card aloud.

"You think it was awful, don't you?" Michael asks, visibly cringing.

"No. No I don't. I think it's really sweet."

"Really? Thanks god, because I must have re-written that thing about sixty billion times and it still didn't sound good in my head."

I giggle. "How many times did you actually re-write this."

Michael simply gestures towards is bin, which is quite honestly overflowing with crumpled up bits of paper.

"My god," I incredulously respond. "That's commitment if I ever did see it."

Michael takes a seat next to me on his bed. "So um, do you wanna do the boyfriend/girlfriend thing?" He asks, with mock-casualness.

"Yeah," I reply in the same tone. "Do you wanna do the boyfriend/girlfriend thing?"

"Yeah."

We both giggle, and I think before either of us realises it we're kissing again. But it's different to the last time, because we both know exactly what we're doing and it's not unexpected, and neither of us are going to freak out. At least, I hope not. It's nice.

"_Knock knock!"_

Michael and I break away from each other in fright, and notice that Michael's mother has walked in carrying a tray. Oh dear god…

"I thought I'd bring you two some juice," she smiles as she places the two glasses on the table.

"Th-th-thank you, Mom," Michael quickly says.

"So, what are you kids up to?"

"Nothing!" We simultaneously reply. I honest-to-god think I can actually feel my cheeks getting redder with embarrassment.

Michael's mom pulls a sceptical face. "Yeah, okay then." She leaves.

"Yeah, I don't think she believed us," I quietly whisper.

Michael shakes his head. "No, she did not."


	20. My Flight Delay

_**AN: Hi! I apologise for this chapter. It's very filler-y but sets some stuff up for later on the story. Thanks for all the reviews of the previous chapter! Hope everyone had a great Christmas and New Year! :D**_

* * *

20th December. Oh joy.

Elliot walks about the living room, seemingly searching for something. "Okay, so I have an hour and a half to get passports, plane tickets, and make sure both bags are ready." She shakes her head. "I'm not freaking out. Even though I haven't packed half my suitcase, upon realising the other day that some of my clothes don't fit comfortably any more and having to rush out last and buy some baggier tops and sweaters so my parents don't click immediately that I'm pregnant and spending all last night at the Laundromat washing and drying everything before spending more time ironing everything…." She trails off.

"Elliot," I tentatively ask. "Are you alright?"

She strenuously nods. "I am not freaking out."

"Okay then," I reply. She is freaking out a bit. And even though I've asked it a million times over the last couple of days, I'll ask it again. "Elliot, would you like a hand with anything?"

"No, JD, I really do not want your help," she snaps.

Exactly the response I was expecting. Hormones must suck.

Alyssa walks out of her room a second or two later. "Okay. That's me going to school."

"I thought you weren't going in today?" I say.

"I wasn't supposed to be. But it's the Christmas concert today and Kate's singing a solo and is completely terrified. I'm sneaking in for moral support."

"Okay, before you go," Elliot interrupts suddenly, "have you completely packed your suitcase?"

Alyssa nods. "Yes."

"Have you sorted your plane bag?"

"Yes."

"Do you have your passport?"

"No."

Uh-oh.

Elliot's eyebrows lower. "You _don't_ have your passport?"

"I don't," Alyssa shakes her head.

"Why not?"

I hope to god that is a good answer. Otherwise Elliot is going to completely flip out.

"Because I gave it to you yesterday when you were freaking out because you couldn't find the plane tickets."

"That's right," Elliot nods. "So remember, we're picking you up at ten sharp, okay? And we're going straight to the airport, so you need to be out of school at ten."

"Yes, I will absolutely be out of school by ten," Alyssa laughs. "But can I please go now? Otherwise I won't _get_ to school until ten."

Elliot points towards the door. "Go."

"Thank you." Alyssa hurries out the apartment, while Elliot continues pacing about the room.

"Elliot, are you sure you don't want me to help?" I question again. "There's a lot to do and not much time to do it."

And then the phone rings. That's helpful.

"If you want to help, get the phone."

Obeying my orders, I answer the phone. "Hello?"

"_Hey Bambi! How's it going? Is Elliot there?"_

"She's here, but she's kinda busy."

"_Oh, okay. I can call her cell later if that's better?"_

"Hold on a second. I'll see if she's up for talking." I walk through to the bedroom where Elliot is, putting things into her suitcase. "Hey. It's Carla. You wanna talk?"

"Yeah," Elliot nods. "Could you please make sure everything is in that bag?"

"Sure."

"Thank you." Elliot takes the phone from me, and almost instantly begins talking as she leaves the room. "Hey Carla…"

Wow. For someone who was freaking out about something to do, Elliot looks fairly organised. Okay, so she does have most of her suitcase to pack, but everything is in neat plies pretty much ready to be placed straight in the suitcase. Although…. I think I'll leave the suitcase packing to Elliot. Or at least leave it until Elliot returns to makes sure I'm packing everything right. Elliot likes to have her suitcase packed in a certain order, and the mood she's in right now, she'd probably knock the head off my shoulders for getting it wrong. So I'll leave that. Elliot said she wanted her flight bag didn't she? So that would be… plane tickets… check… passports… check… Elliot's iPod and make-up… check and check. Okay, so now it's a case of trying to fit it all in the bag.

I guess I could put the passport in one of the smaller front zips. How do girls keep track of everything they keep in their bags? Hmm. There's already something in this zip. I take the thing out, and look at it. Oh. It's a copy of the ultrasound picture.

"Carla just called to wish me good luck, apparently," Elliot says as she walks back into the room and approached

"That was nice of her. Hey, you didn't tell me you kept an ultrasound picture in your bag."

"Oh, yeah," Elliot smiles. "I think it's my good luck charm. Let's hope it works this week, huh?"

* * *

School is so much fun on the last day of term. At least, St Catherine's High School is. It is my first end of term day here. At my old school, we had end of term stuff, but it was mostly contained within regular classes. We had school Mass and carol concert, of course, but nothing to this extent. The first concert is supposed to end about ten. The second starting about half past. Why are there two concerts, I hear you ask. Well, it's quite simple. Our main hall isn't quite big enough to fit the whole school in safely (apparently one year they had people sitting on the auditorium stairs and everything), so the teachers decided to have the concert in two sittings: the first for younger pupils and the second for seniors.

I'm not even supposed to be here today. So why am I? Kate is singing a solo, and all week she's been absolutely terrified. Really stressed out about it. Even at three AM, she was texting me, panicking about it. It was fine. I've got a six-ish hour flight ahead of me; I'll catch up on sleep then. I promised her I'd come in this morning for moral support, but I've had to come in for the junior showing. I've been snuck into the lighting box to watch. I guess it's lucky for me that my boyfriend helps to operate the lights on school.

Jeez, that's still sounding weird in my head. Calling Michael my boyfriend. It's just short of two weeks we've been going out now, and if I haven't been at his, he's been at mine. Or at school. Or in the lighting box.

Right now, the brass group has started playing. Kate should be on next according to the programme. She's the finale.

"So what time is your flight?" Michael asks.

"About one, I think. Then it's a whole week with my wacky family."

"Lucky you," Michael sarcastically jokes. "Who's all going to your grandparents for Christmas?"

"I honestly don't know. Well, aunt Elliot and me obviously. And I think my uncle Barry is going. Don't know about anybody else though."

"What about… what about your dad?" He hesitantly asks.

"I don't know," I quietly answer. "Hopefully not. He hasn't even been in touch for a few weeks. No letter, random photos, nothing."

Michael just looks at me, waiting for me to elaborate, I think.

"That's fine though. Good, even. I don't want to hear from him; I don't _want_ him to send me sentimental crap. He can rot in hell for all I care. And my mother. I don't know which of them is worse. Mom, because she's made no contact, or my dad because he abandons me with my aunt and then tries to act as if he cares."

"I don't know either," Michael quietly replies.

"But anyway, enough about them."

There is applause coming from the hall, which I assume means the brass group have finished playing, which would also mean that Kate is on next. I stand from my seat and walk over to stand and look out of the lighting box window. Now, one of the music teachers is walking on to the stage and approaching the microphone.

"Well, we have now reached the end of our Christmas concert," he says. "We hope you've enjoyed all the performances. I'd now like to invite our own Katherine Findlay on to the stage to sing _All I Want For Christmas Is You_. Merry Christmas."

"She's gonna be pissed," I quietly say as Kate is walking on to the stage. "She hates being called Katherine."

As Kate steps up to the mic, she looks nervous. When she glances up at the lighting box, I give the thumbs-up sign. The music starts and she seems to relax just a little. By the time she's at the end of the song, you wouldn't have thought she was nervous at all. The audience applauds.

"Why, again, was Kate texting you at 3AM?" Michael asks, as the house lights go up.

"She was nervous."

"Why?"

"I have absolutely no idea," I reply. "We should go ask her."

Michael and I walk down lighting box stairs and into the busy hall. There's no real order to the way people are leaving. It's not like a normal assembly exit where everybody leaves in a regimented fashion, class by class. It's more like a non-violent, non-scary free for all. I like it.

"Can you see Kate anywhere?"

Michael shakes his head in reply. "Oh, heads up."

"Alyssa Reid." That would be my registration teacher. How fun. "Why didn't you register this morning?"

"I'm not actually supposed to be here," I reply. "Yeah, I'm supposed to be at home preparing for a whole week of hell and self-loathing at my grandparents' house in Connecticut."

My registration teacher raises a confused eyebrow, while Michael is trying (not very well, I might add) to stifle laughter.

"Right," the teacher says, with a tone that sounds as if she's debating the seriousness of my answer. "Well, Merry Christmas, then."

"Merry Christmas to you too," I say.

As soon as she's out of earshot, Michael crumbles into a fit of laughter. "Her face was priceless."

"Whose face?" Kate asks, just as she steps beside us.

"Mrs Lamont's," I answer. "Anyway, what was that you were saying to me yesterday. Something about how you were gonna be awful and you were gonna forget your word, mess up and run off stage in a flood of tears?"

Kate rolls her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Was it really okay?"

"Okay?" Michael repeats. "Shut up."

"Yeah, you were awesome." I add. "Seriously. I am totally jealous."

"Don't be jealous," Michael says. "You're just better at other stuff."

"Yeah, like making people's ears bleed when you sing and stuff," Kate adds, smirking jokingly.

Jaw drop. "What. A. Bitch."

"I could not miss that opportunity," Kate jests.

I shake my head and glance down at my watch. "Crap. It 9.55 already? I have to go. "Okay, can you do me one favour while I'm away? Please keep money on your cell? If I have any chance of being sane when I get home, I am going to have to be texting the two of you like, _all_ the time."

"Sure," Kate laughs.

"Okay, now I really need to go!" I hug Kate. "Merry Christmas, hon."

"You too."

"Hey, I'll walk you out," Michael says.

"Thanks. See you later," I say to Kate, as we walk out of the assembly hall. "You know, I never thought I'd say this, but I'd much rather stay at school than go where I'm going."

"I'd rather you were here too," Michael replies. "But that, of course, is for purely selfish reasons."

I laugh. "Of course it is. But at least I'll be back in a week. Although, that still seems like a long time with my family and their wackiness."

"Will you be able to get away from them at any point?"

"Hopefully," I answer. "I might catch up with some people from my old school."

"That'll be fun."

"Yeah." We're at the front door of the school now. "Well, this is it. I gotta go now. This sucks."

"It really does," Michael responds. "Remember to call me when you're getting on the plane?"

"For the millionth time, yes" I say, jokingly rolling my eyes at the same time.

Nothing is said after that. A hug and a kiss seems to do all the talking. The moment, however is short-lived, thanks to some jackass who decided it's still funny to yell 'get a room.' And that is why God gave humans the middle finger: so we could flip people like that off.

"Well," I sigh, "I'll see you in a week."

"See you in a week," Michael repeats.

* * *

Right now, Elliot and Alyssa are checking in for their flight, while I wait closer to the door for them to return. Sort of reminds me of the last time I was in this airport when we were saying goodbye to Elliot's parents when they visited. That was only a couple of months ago, yet it feels like much longer. A lot has changed since then. A whole lot has changed.

I am brought out of my ponderings by the sound of Elliot and Alyssa in hysterical laughter, as they walk up from the check-in desk.

"What's so funny?" I curiously ask.

"The guy that checked us in," Elliot snorts, "was the same guy that my mom flirted with endlessly last time she was here."

Alyssa shakes her head. "It was so difficult to keep a straight face."

"You can say that again," Elliot laughs.

Alyssa overdramatically shrugs and opens her mouth as if she's about to speak.

"Don't say it again," Elliot interrupts.

"Fair enough."

"I guess we should probably be heading through to the departure lounges," Elliot says. "I'm getting pretty hungry, and there is some good food through there."

"Trust you to think about the food," I joke.

"Well, you know, I eat a lot of it these days and celery sticks just don't seem to cut it any more," Elliot replies.

"I'm just going over there to buy a magazine for the plane, okay?" Alyssa says, before walking towards the shop that is just a few feet away.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye for a week then," Elliot quietly says.

"I guess so," I reply. "So you ready for your parents?"

"As I'm ever gonna be," Elliot answers. "You know, I'm really going to miss you this week."

"I'm gonna miss you too." Then I kiss her.

A second later, somebody says "Get a room."

Elliot and I glance around to notice Alyssa standing beside us, leafing through her magazine.

"It was nothing personal," she says. "I just wanted to find out where the hilarity was."

"Did you find it?" Elliot asks.

"Nope."

"I guess we should go then," Elliot says, lifting up her plane bag. "I'll see you in a week."

"See you in a week," I repeat, just as Elliot and Alyssa begin to walk away towards the escalator.

Just as they step off the escalator on to the next floor, my cell phone rings in my pocket. I take it out, and glance at the incoming number.

"Hello? Yes, this is Dr Dorian. Yes, I would be able to make it. Okay, thank you. I'll be there in about an hour."

* * *

You know what I really hate about airports? Delays. They're everywhere. Those pesky little words on the screen that tell you you're stuck here for a while longer.

"How the hell can we be delayed an hour already?" Aunt Elliot asks. "We're not even supposed to take off for another two hours."

"Airports suck," I respond. "But at least the food was good."

"Yeah. Wanna get a seat?"

I nod.

The departure lounge is quite busy, but not uncomfortably so. There are quite a few delays though, so I imagine that will change later. One of the flights to the Caribbean I saw was delayed eight hours. I'd be so pissed if I were on that flight. Thank god I'm not. And now that I've thought that I've probably jinxed it and we will end up delayed eight hours. Damn.

My aunt and I take seats that are quite close to our departure gate. This area isn't too busy yet. Other people that are on the flights have probably had the good sense to find other things to do before making their way to the gate.

"I'm gonna call JD," my aunt says. "Tell him we're already delayed."

While my aunt is calling, I find my own cell phone from my bag and text Kate and Michael, basically telling them the same thing.

"That's weird," Elliot semi-musingly says. "He's not answering his phone. Never mind. He's probably with a patient; I'll call later."

My cell then beeps, thanks to an incoming message from Michael. _That sucks. Hope you're not delayed any more. Call me when you're getting on the plane x. _

"Remind me to call Michael when we're getting on the plane," I quietly say. "If we ever actually get on the plane," I mutter.

"Sure," my aunt replies. "Oh, remind me when we go back that Carla owes me twenty bucks."

"Carla owes you twenty bucks?" I enquiringly ask.

"Yeah. We, um… had a wager going on when you and Michael were gonna hook up."

I shake my head. "You realise how wrong that was, right?"

My aunt laughs. "Sorry."

"I guess it's fair though," I continue. "Kate and I had the same bet going on with you and JD."

"Fair enough," Elliot replies. "So are you happy?"

"Yeah."

"Good. I'm glad. He's a good kid. But I think there's a certain talk I'm supposed to have with you now."

I lower my eyebrows. "If it's the talk I'm thinking of, are you really the best example?"

"Shut up," Aunt Elliot laughs. "And if anything, I am a good example of why you should listen to the talk."

"Yeah, okay," I reply. "Just to clarify, what is your escape plan for when Granddad hits the roof when you tell him you're pregnant?"

"Uh, to run."

"Wow, you're screwed."

Aunt Elliot shakes her head. "I know, it's a rubbish plan, but it's the best I can come up with. You know, I've been thinking about it, and he can't really say anything. JD and I aren't married, but we might as well be in every way other than actually having a wedding, even if we aren't actually ready for that. And yeah, okay, so we've broken up a few times in the past, and we've both done stuff to really hurt each other. I mean, we've done some awful things to each other. But it's been different this time, right from the start. Right from the beginning, I think we both knew things were different this time."

"Wow," I quietly mutter, mostly because I have nothing else to say.

Before anything else is said, there is a tannoy announcement regarding our flight.

"_American Airlines regrets to inform all passengers that this flight is now delayed two hours. Departure time is now 1500 hours. We apologise for the inconvenience caused."_

"I knew that was going to happen," I complain, rolling my eyes.

My aunt sighs. "Yeah, me too."

* * *

Okay, so now thanks to my meeting, along with dropping Elliot and Alyssa off at the airport, I'm two hours late for work. But nobody will have noticed, right?

"Hey dude," Turk says when he sees me. "You're two hours late! You realise Kelso is going to be on the warpath."

"Yeah, well he can just suck it."

"So where were you?" Turk questions.

"I," pause, "just sold the half-acre."

Turk lowers his eyebrows. "You sold the half-acre. Why?"

"It was just time," I answer. "I need the money from it to help with other things."

"Like what?"

"Just… other things."

* * *

So, after a four-hour delay, six-hour flight and a really unpleasant taxi ride, I have finally arrived at my grandparents' house. My aunt Elliot and I are standing at the front door, waiting for someone to answer.

Then my granddad opens the door. And let the torture commence!

"Hello. You two are a bit late, aren't you? Everyone's here already," He says, as he lifts our bags into the hall.

"Our flight got delayed," My aunt answers. "For four hours."

With no further comment, I walk into my grandparent's living room, which is surprisingly busy. There's Grandma, Uncle Barry, Uncle Bradley, Uncle Billy and…

Oh, my god, is that my dad?


	21. My Week In Connecticut

_**AN: Few messages before the start of the chapter. As some of you might know, I started a livejournal community for JD/Elliot fiction. We're looking for more readers and writers to post their fics there too. If you're interested, the link is on my profile page. There are a quite a few fics on there that aren't posted on here, as well. Looking forward to seeing you there.**_

_**Secondly.**__** This chapter - I'm nervous about it. I'd just like to make clear that I'm writing for fun. Also, my medical knowledge is basically next to none. I will respond to any comments you might have later. Thanks.**_

* * *

With no further comment, I walk into my grandparents' living room, which is surprisingly busy. There's Grandma, Uncle Barry, Uncle Bradley, Uncle Billy and…

_Oh, my god, is that my dad?_

"Alyssa?" Yep, that is my dad and the bastard is smiling at me.

"Dad," I snarl. I'm not being nice. Why should I be?

Just then, my aunt Elliot also walks into the room. "Brian," she dryly says. "I thought you were out of the country."

"Yeah, isn't that why you dumped me on Aunt Elliot's doorstep?"

My dad is still smiling. "Yes, I have been out of the country," he replies. Although not replying to the comment about me being dumped on a doorstep, I see. "I'm just back for Christmas."

"How convenient," Elliot growls. She's not his biggest fan either, unsurprisingly.

I'm digging my own fingernails so far into my hand I think I'm actually drawing blood. Funny how just this morning I was saying that my dad could rot in hell for all I cared, and now that my dad is standing there in front of me, I might actually want him to rot in hell more than I already did. Is that wrong?

"Uh, why don't you two put your cases in your rooms?" My Granddad says, clearly trying to act as a distraction. "It seems like you two have had a long day."

I send another glare in my father before leaving the living room. Quietly, I follow my grandfather through the house, up to where the spare rooms are.

"Take your pick of the rooms," my grandfather says, before walking away.

Once my grandfather is out of earshot, my aunt speaks to me. "Alyssa, I'm so sorry. I had no idea your dad was going to be here."

"It's okay. But that the hell is he doing here?" I ask, not really expecting a response. "And where's my mom?"

* * *

There are four days left before Christmas. Kelso did have a point: the hospital is crazy. Mostly just some broken bones, sprained ankles, a few cases of the flu. Just the general winter stuff. But nevertheless, I have been run off my feet, as has everybody in this hospital. It's a madhouse. I haven't even had a chance to call Elliot and see how it's going in Connecticut.

I'm walking along the ward corridor when Turk approaches me. "Dude," he suddenly says. "What time does your shift end?"

"Six-thirty," I respond. "Why?"

"Okay," Turk says. "After your shift, meet me at the mall."

"Why?" I repeat.

"Just do it." Turk walks away.

O…kay…

* * *

I did not sleep well last night, even though I was shattered. Travelling is tiring. But, as it turns out, being angry about the fact that your dad, who you pretty much hate, is here makes it quite difficult to sleep. Probably didn't help that I spent all night thinking of ways I could kill him. If you couldn't already tell, I'm extremely angry. And thinking happy thoughts just isn't cutting it.

My extreme anger is why I didn't go down for breakfast when I was called. Every time someone shouted on me, I said I'd be down in a couple of minutes. When I was shouted on again, I'd say I'd be another couple of minutes. You get the idea. Well, it's been an hour since the start of breakfast. I should probably go down now…

To be honest, I don't plan on spending a lot of time with my family, at least not today. I text a couple of my old school friends to say I was in Connecticut for the week and they invited me to the mall to catch up. That is, of course, providing my grandparents don't have some big plan that involves everybody.

I walk into the breakfast room (yes, that's right, my grandparents have what they call the breakfast room. You only eat breakfast in it. Not lunch, not dinner, just breakfast. I know, they're weird) and everyone is sitting around the table. The breakfast is like something you'd get served in a hotel. The layout of it, I mean. There's toast in the toast holder things. Cereal in those big bowls, a nice tablecloth on the table. Of course, this will not have been set out by any of my family. My grandparents still have a maid…

"Morning," I cheerily say (even though I don't actually feel that cheery) as I walk into the aforementioned breakfast room.

"Morning, Alyssa," my grandfather replies. "Are you feeling okay?"

Sceptical/Confused face. "I'm feeling fine," I answer, sounding every so slightly confuzzled. "Why?"

"Your aunt just mentioned that she isn't feeling well. Thinks it might have been plane food."

I glance to my aunt, who wears a facial expression as if to say 'just go with it'.

"Um… yeah, I'm feeling fine. But then again, I didn't eat any of the plane food."

"You didn't eat anything for over six hours?" My uncle Barry asks sceptically. Yeah, he might have clicked that there's a whole lotta lies going on here.

"Yeah. I had a big lunch at the airport, so I wasn't hungry."

"Right," Uncle Barry says in the same tone he used a few seconds ago.

This is going to be a fun, fun week. Please note the use of sarcasm. And now, for the all-important question: "Aunt Elliot, is it cool if I meet up with some of my old school friends? You know, if there's nothing else planned. They invited me down to the mall."

"Yeah, sure," my aunt cheerfully replies. "There's nothing else planned anyway."

"Thanks."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a slightly bewildered look on my dad's face. "Uh… shouldn't you be asking me if you can go out with your friends?"

"Well," my aunt snaps, before I even have a chance to apologise. I know I shouldn't, but he's my dad and it's like a reflex reaction. "Since you left her on my door step five months ago and have made next to no contact, I'm gonna say no."

That shut him up. But I don't know what to say either, so I sit down and quietly eat my toast.

---

My shift now over, I've headed down to the mall to meet Turk, still completely oblivious as to the reason. And I'm also oblivious as to where Turk is.

"Hey, Vanilla Bear," a voice comes from behind me.

Narrow eyes. "Where did you come from?" I shriek.

Turk raises a puzzled eyebrow. "Well, originally…"

"Yeah, yeah. Shut up before you give me your life story," I interrupt Turk. "Why are we here?"

"If Carla asks, we're getting things for the New Year's Eve party she's planning."

"Why are we really here?"

"Because I forgot to get Carla a Christmas present."

"How the hell did you do that?"

"I was just so busy at the hospital that I didn't realise it was so close to Christmas. And the last time I was so busy, I ended up giving Carla a pen from the Ass Box."

I laugh. "That was funny. She's gonna kill you, you know?"

"Not if I get her something really _really_ good," Turk stubbornly replies. "Which is why you're here to help me!"

This won't go wrong….

----

It was really weird meeting with my old school friends. They haven't changed a bit. There was Phoebe, who still spent nearly an hour in a bookstore like she used to. Then there was Robin, who was having another boyfriend drama, as she always seemed to be having. And lastly there was Alice, who was cracking jokes at every little thing as she always did. None of them had changed a bit. But here's the funny thing: I didn't feel like I fit in with them any more. Those girls used to be my best friends, but I didn't feel like I fitted in with the group any more. It's not that they've changed. It's that I have. I know in five months away, that's bound to happen; I just didn't expect to have drifted from the group so much.

I did manage to spend nearly all day with my old friends though, so that was good. Five-thirty it is now, and I need to go back for family dinner. Oh joy.

The house is quiet as I open the door. Not just quiet, deathly silent. Normally there's an incomprehensible buzz of chatter or music or something. It's really quite eerie. Me no likey. I can actually hear my own footsteps as I walk along the hall. Of course, that could be because I'm wearing kitten heels and I'm walking along wooden flooring, but it's creepy nevertheless.

I turn in to the living room. Chances are if everyone has gone out, somebody will have left a note to say where they are. Aunt Elliot might have tried calling me, but my cell receptions was playing funny buggers in the mall. Glancing up at the mantelpiece, I don't see a note to say where everyone is like I was looking for, but instead that my dad is there, staring right at me.

"Where is everyone?" I ask coldly, not wanting to get into anything resembling small talk. To be honest, I'm not even looking at him when I ask the question.

"They're all outside," my dad responds in a tone that he wouldn't have normally used even when I was living with my parents. It's too friendly. Before I was left at my aunt's, any time I would ask a question or even say anything, he would respond in a more formal, authoritative tone. More like a principal speaking to a student than a father speaking to a daughter. "They're trying to get a barbecue sorted."

"A barbecue?" I incredulously blurt. "It's December!"

"I know, but your Uncle Bradley and Uncle Barry insisted. Your Aunt Elliot didn't seem so keen though."

Once silence descends on the room, I rotate myself and begin to make my escape out of the living room to the garden where some of my crazy nutjob family are trying to have a barbecue. In December. Seriously.

"You've gotten taller since the last time I saw you."

I stop immediately in my tracks, my get away interrupted. "That might have something to do with the fact you haven't seen me in over five months." I could have said something about how he looks thinner and paler than I remember him being, but that would be making small talk, and I have been determined not to do that since I arrived here.

"How are you doing at school?"

"Fine," I state simply. "I recently organised a charity disco, and I applied for pre-med."

"That's good," my dad smiles. "Do you have good friends?"

"Yeah, they're great."

"So, do you have a boyfriend?"

I hate these kinds of questions. "Yeah, I do. His name's Michael."

"Is he good to you?"

"Yeah, he is."

My dad is smiling. Weirdly. After a few seconds of silence, he speaks again. "You're really growing up fast, aren't you?"

Considering I have no idea how to react to that, the silence falls upon the room yet again. But this time, it's my turn to break it. Apparently.

"I'm gonna go outside," I quietly say.

"Okay, honey."

----

Turk managed to get something for Carla's Christmas. And he managed get some things for their New Year party. Although when I say party…

"It's just going be a few friends over for something to eat and seeing in the New Year," Carla explains casually, as she sorts some charts.

"Doesn't sound like much of a party," I mutter, more to myself than anything else.

"Trust me, in a year or two, you'll be calling that a kick-ass party," Carla knowingly says. "So will you guys be coming or not?"

"Yeah, probably."

"Thank you," Carla says, before walking away into a patients' room.

"Dude," Turks says. I didn't realise he was standing behind me. "You didn't say anything about my present for her, did you?"

"No," I respond. "Why would I do that?"

"I was just checking. You're off tomorrow night, right?" Turk asks.

"Yeah."

"Wanna go to bar after work? It's been ages since we hung out like we used to."

"Hells to the yeah!" I reply. "What time? Eight?"

"Hells yeah. See you there?"

"Yep."

That should be fun.

----

Two days down. Five more to go. And one of them is the travelling back day, so really it's only four more days being spent with my family. Woop woop.

I just had to go back to my room to put my cell phone on charge. It was dying on me. Frown. But it did buy me a few minutes away from the breakfast table. Every cloud has a silver lining and all that.

There is the flip side of that phrase, however. Every sliver lining has a cloud. And the cloud to my silver lining is that I have to return to the table. Damn.

One of the doors along the hall is slightly ajar, and I can hear the faint mumble of voices that grows louder as I approach the door. Well, this is a good opportunity to eavesdrop if I ever did see one. Come on, if you had a family as dysfunctional as mine, you'd do the same. I quickly recognise the voices as belonging to my dad and my granddad.

"You have to tell her. And soon," my granddad mutedly says.

My dad responds with an angst filled "I know. I just don't how to."

My prying is then disturbed by the startling noise of another door opening, which causes me to jump in fright.

Once I regain my startled composure, I notice my Uncle Barry looking at me perplexedly.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

"Nothing," I quickly respond. "Certainly not listening in to a private conversation."

"Come on, you need to have breakfast before we all go to Mass."

"We're going to Mass?" I ask with annoyance. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," Uncle Barry replies with a similar tone to my own. "Your Granddad is insisting we all go."

"Dear God…" Then I realise the irony. "Whatever."

I follow my uncle into the breakfast room, where everyone - minus my father and grandfather who I assume are still having their weird conversation, and my grandmother who is god knows where – is sitting around the table. Since I'm last in the room, I ask everybody if they would like their coffees topped up. Most agree, except for an obvious person.

"None for me, thanks," my aunt Elliot replies.

Uncle Barry pulls a face. "Since when did you turn down a cup of coffee?"

Clearly trying to act nonchalant (or maybe it's just more obvious when you know someone's lying), my aunt shrugs. "I just don't feel like it this morning."

"Or yesterday morning, apparently," Barry adds with a little hint of curiosity.

The random chatter about nothing in particular continues for a few minutes more before my grandparents and my father walk back into the room.

"So are we ready to go?" My grandfather asks everybody.

We all respond with enthusiasm in one way or another, but really nobody particularly wants to go.

Suddenly, my grandmother scoffs.

"What?" Almost everyone simultaneously says.

My grandmother looks my aunt Elliot up and down with a look of disgust. "Oh honey, what are you wearing?"

Aunt Elliot rolls her eyes. "Um… I'm wearing jeans and a sweater."

"I can see that," my grandma sarcastically replies. "But the sweater? You'll never keep a guy wearing something like that. It's so baggy. So unflattering."

Just at the end of that exchange, I glance at my uncle Barry, who has a very weird expression on his face. Then it suddenly changes to one of realisation.

"Uh-oh spaghetti-oh," I quietly mutter.

"No way," he says.

That statement is answered by a very evil glare from my aunt, which luckily, nobody else seemed to notice. "Look, it's cold outside and the sweater keeps me warm, okay?" Aunt Elliot snappily says.

"Uh… so are we all ready to go?" My grandfather repeats, trying to change the whole conversation.

Everyone makes their way out of the room, while my uncle Barry continues to shake his head.

* * *

Mass was, well, awkward to be honest. Aside from Father O'Neil talking to me like I was still that six-year-old in Sunday School, my uncle Barry kept giggling which meant my aunt Elliot kept elbowing him… which then made me laugh because she was basically beating him up in church.

We're all back at my grandparents' house now. More specifically, I'm in the kitchen helping my aunt Elliot to prepare lunch. But it isn't long before someone else walks into the room.

"So Mom and Dad sent me through to make everyone coffee," uncle Barry says. "But I'm guessing you won't want any, what with you being pregnant and all."

Quick as all hell, aunt Elliot spins around to face Barry, with a look of absolute venom on her face. "I swear to god, Barry, if you tell Mom or Dad or anybody else, I _will_ end you!"

No joke about it, uncle Barry actually looks scared. "Okay, relax, I won't say anything." After a pause my uncle Barry then says: "So who's the daddy, so I can go kick his ass." And he's being serious.

"Hey!" Elliot snaps back.

"What? You really expect me not to kill the guy who knocked up my baby sister?"

"There will be no killing of anybody," snarls my aunt. "Look, he's a guy from work. I've known him for nearly eight years, we've been together for nearly five months."

Barry raises an eyebrow. "And how many months pregnant are you?"

"Um… almost three."

"Yeah… that sounds responsible," uncle Barry says, but I think he's joking slightly.

My aunt Elliot rolls her eyes. "Shut up. Just… please don't tell Mom and Dad, okay? I'm gonna tell them at some point this week, I am. Just when the time's right. Like… three minutes before I leave to go home."

Uncle Barry shakes his head, pulling a disapproving face. "I think three minutes before you leave is still too early. They would still have a chance to tear you a new one. No, I think you should tell them three minutes before you board the plane. That way, you can tell them you're pregnant, hang up, turn off your cell, fly six hours and speak to them again after they've had a few hours to cool off."

"You know, that plan's not half bad," I chime in.

Aunt Elliot frowns. "They're going to kill me aren't they?"

"No they won't," Barry reassuringly says. "They might be pretty pissed at first, but they're not going to kill you. Give them a bit of time to cool off and by the time your kid is born they'll have completely forgotten that they were even pissed."

"Thanks," Elliot quietly responds.

"And if they've got any sense they'll realise that you seem happier than anyone's seen you in a long time. Maybe even ever."

My aunt Elliot laughs just slightly, then says, " I am."

"Then I'm happy for you, sis." Uncle Barry walks over and hugs Aunt Elliot.

"Awww, cute," I mutter. "Although, Uncle Barry, I have to ask, how did figure that out so quickly? That was impressive."

Uncle Barry raises an eyebrow. "Dude, I'm an obstetrician."

I knew that. "That is very true," I pensively say, thinking of my own stupidity.

A second later, my grandfather walks into the kitchen. "What are y'all talking about?"

"Nothing," all of us who were previously in the kitchen say.

"All right," my grandfather responds, although I'm not completely sure he believes us. "I was just checking up on the lunch and tea."

"They'll be ready in a few minutes," uncle Barry replies, which my granddad to leave the room.

* * *

Three days down; four more to go. Yes, I am going to keep doing that until I'm out of here. It's my mental countdown.

Having spent the best part of today visiting relatives who I haven't seen for years (to be perfectly honest, I thought my great-grandmother was already dead, but never mind) we're now back at my grandparents house eating dinner, once again. Dinner or meal times in general are quite strange when the whole family is together, there's no talking about anything in particular. Mostly medical talk, one of the disadvantages of being in a room with six doctors. It's quite annoying for the two of us in the room who are not doctors.

Once the talk about a surgery or a guy or something else I wasn't really listening to has died down, my granddad turns his head towards my aunt Elliot. "So, Elliot, where's John?"

"Oh, the chief would only let one of us have the time off. He's working."

My grandmother raises a sadistic eyebrow. Uh-oh… "Really, honey? Are you sure you didn't just scare him away?"

Aunt Elliot rolls her eyes with annoyance. "No, Mom, he couldn't get the time off work or else he'd be here."

Shaking her head, my grandmother continues her onslaught. "You should be careful. With you gone, he'll be out at some club with some other girl."

"Mom." My uncle Barry says. It's loud enough that everybody in the room heard it, but not loud enough that it acts as a real warning to my grandmother.

"Come on, she never could keep a guy," My grandmother continues. Oh she's so sadistic. And evil. Thank goodness I don't see her much any more. "And with the dress sense she's been donning of late, she has no chance."

"Mom!" Uncle Barry's voice is louder this time, and it really startles every one in the room. "Knock it off, for the love of god!"

There are, really, only two words I can use here: Holy crap! That was awesome. And it has given my grandmother one hell of a deer-in-headlights look.

"Sorry," Grandma sheepishly says, although I'm not convinced she really meant it because, well, she never does.

Anyone looking at my aunt Elliot right now would know that she is pissed. In fact, she's about three miles past pissed. She's just plain angry. I would not be surprised if she just got up and left right now. I would if I were her.

"So, speaking of missing spouses," aunt Elliot bitterly says. Clearly she's taking a different approach than I would. "Brian, where's your wife?"

"That's a good question. Where is Mom?"

Suddenly there's a tense atmosphere in the room. My dad and my grandfather exchange serious glances, while the rest of us look at each other with confusion.

"She, uh… she's gone to Guatemala with Doctors Without Borders. She left two weeks ago."

"I thought you and Mom had been out of the country this whole time."

My dad solemnly shakes his head. "No. In fact, we weren't out of the country at all."

"Then… where were you?"

"We were in Florida."

"Why were you in Florida?" I ask coolly, although the wheels in my head really are working overtime. "And why didn't you go to Guatemala with Mom?"

Dad just looks me in the eye. "We got divorced."

It's Aunt Elliot who asks the question I honestly can't ask myself. "You and Emily got divorced?"

"Yeah. Two months ago."

"Why?"

"It was just… for the best."

"For the best. What the hell?" I angrily say. "Okay," I continue, trying to be calmer than I was a second ago. "Let me get this straight. You and Mom left me at Aunt Elliot's hospital, because you were leaving the country, but apparently you weren't out of the country at all. You were in Florida, for reasons I'm not particularly sure on. And you and Mom took me to Mass and Sunday School every week since I can remember and you wanna know one of the things I learned there. Apparently, divorce is a sin. Yeah, I remember when I was eleven and I came home and told you and Mom that Sarah Stevens' parents were getting divorced. I think your exact words were 'That means her parents are going to hell'. And now, five-ish years later, you tell me that you and Mom got divorced. So I'm guessing that makes you a hypocrite. But then again, I'm neither shocked nor surprised. Just confused. And what's confusing me more than anything is why you and Mom were in Florida when you basically abandoned me. Why did you tell me – and aunt Elliot for that matter – that you were out of the country? And this reason better be good or I'm going to be really pissed off."

My dad is silent. Funny that.

"Brian," Granddad says. "You have to tell her. Now."

I raise an eyebrow. "Tell me what?"

Sighing, my dad says, "Alyssa, there's something that I haven't told you."

"Something?" I sarcastically ask. "Or a lot of things?"

"Do you remember when you were four and you stayed with Grandma and Granddad?"

"Yeah," I snap. "What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, your Mom and I told you it was because we were going to Mexico for a while. We weren't in Mexico. We were… in Florida. The truth is, when you were four years old, I was diagnosed with a brain tumour."

"You… what?"

"At the time it was operated on. I underwent chemo and radiation therapy, and a few months later I was given the all clear. But, unfortunately, a few months ago, around about the time that you went to live with your aunt Elliot, I was rediagnosed. I had another tumour. Your mother and I decided that it would be best for you if you didn't know about this. Especially when we weren't all that close and you didn't know the first time. And it wouldn't matter if you knew when I was given the all clear again."

"So… why are you telling me now?" I don't think I want to hear the answer to this.

My dad frowns. And I'm looking down at the ground. "Because now there's nothing more that can be done. The tumour is not reacting to any treatments, and it is inoperable."

"Um… how… how long…"

"Six months," my dad quietly answers. "That's if I'm lucky."

"Okay…. I…. Um… I just… need to not be here…"

* * *

As long as it feels since I hung out with Turk, it feels just as long since I even hung out at the bar. Not that the place has changed, mind you, it's still the same old bar with same old drunk people with the same old damn good appletinis.

"Dude," some random guy standing next to me says. "Why don't you drink beer?"

"I'm allergic to barely, thank you for asking," I pleasantly respond.

Once the guy is out of earshot, Turk speaks. "Still going with the barely allergy thing then?"

"'Till the day I die."

"Cheers," Turk says, lifting his beer glass slightly, which I clunk my appletini glass against.

"I've missed this, dude," I say a few seconds later. "The two of us hanging out like we used to."

"Me too," Turk replies, sighing. "It just seems like nowadays there's just so much going on nowadays. I've got Carla and Izzy. You've got Elliot and in a few months you'll have your kid too. Not to mention the fact that you and Elliot have become the main carers to a sixteen-year old."

I sigh. "Ever feel like life is moving at such a fast pace you just can't keep up?"

"All the freaking time," Turk responds in a similar tone. "This morning Carla and I were talking about getting Izzy christened. Just seems like yesterday we brought her home from the hospital. And she's beginning to walk."

"My Mocha Cub's starting to walk? That's awesome!"

"Yeah, it is," Turk smiles. "You know, we're gonna have to think of a name for your kid."

"Vanilla Cub?"

Turk shakes his head. "Not original enough."

"You know, maybe we should wait until after Elliot and I have named the baby before you and I give them a nickname. Maybe there'll be something there to work with."

"That is true," Turk says. "Have you and Elliot even spoken about names yet?"

"Not in the slightest," I reply. "Can I be honest with you, Turk? I am completely, one hundred percent, never-been-more-scared-of-anything-in-my-life terrified of having this baby. But … at the same time… I can't wait. It's like… this was always supposed for Elliot and me. Like we were always gonna end up together, it just took us a while to get there."

"It's true," Turk says. "You and Elliot have grown up a lot, even just in the last few months. Carla and I have hardly seen you. But… I've really missed hanging out with you."

"Me too. How about we make a pact that at least once a month we hang out like we used to?"

"Sounds good," Turk hesitantly says. "But what happens if I'm too busy with surgery or you're too busy with Elliot and a newborn?"

"Dude, it's once a month. We _have_ to do that for the sake of our friendship. And, if we need a way to sell the idea Carla and Elliot, we'll just tell them that it's their chance to hang out and do all that girly stuff they do."

"Alright, you're on!" Turk says. Then he contorts his face slightly. "Dude, I think your cell is ringing."

It is. "Elliot," I quietly mutter, reading the caller ID. "Hello? Elliot, are you okay? What's wrong?"

The conversation doesn't last long. Elliot, in her own distressed way, tells me what has happened before saying she needs to go. "Call me when you know something more, okay?"

"Dude, what's happened?" Turk asks, with concern. "Elliot sounded really frazzled, from what I could hear."

"Alyssa's gone missing."

* * *

I ran away.

After… you know what… I ran away. It's one of the few times I've ever cared that my grandparents owned and orchard. It's a good place to hide out when you don't want to talk to any one. God only knows how long I've been out here for. But it was really light at first and now it's starting to get dark. Which, I guess means maybe I should go back. Not going to happen though.

A few minutes later, I hear footsteps approaching from behind me. I don't know who it is.

"I don't want to talk."

The footsteps stop. "That's okay." The voice is that of my uncle Barry. He sits down next to me. "I'll just sit here with you. You know, this is where I used to sit when I was angry about something, I'd just sneak out of the house and come and sit out here. Nobody would ever find me. Either that or they just wouldn't come looking. Whatever. And then, by the time it started to get dark, I'd maybe think about going in. But I normally didn't, because if I stayed out here, I could get some peace and quiet and then I'd feel better."

"I don't think sitting out here for a while is really going to make me feel any better. Really. It just buys me some time away from my dad 'cause I really don't want to talk to him. Or about him."

"That's fine," Uncle Barry says. "You wanna know who's really worried about you? Your Aunt Elliot. Yeah. Before I left she kept calling your cell, even though it was still upstairs in your room. And she's been calling your friends to see if you'd contacted them."

"Yeah, she asked me to give her Kate and Michael's numbers in case of an emergency," I quietly respond. "But wait, how would I have been able to contact my friends if my cell phone was upstairs in my room?"

"Yeah, I didn't tell her your cell was upstairs. She was stressed out and everyone knows you never stress out an already stressed out pregnant woman. That's why I gave your uncle Bradley a note to give to her. Let him deal with her wrath."

I laugh. "You realise that will result in you getting your ass kicked, right?"

"By Bradley? Please, I could whoop his ass any day."

"That would be hilarious to watch. I'd actually pay to watch that."

"The going rate is twenty bucks," Barry jokes. "So, Aunt Elliot's pregnant, huh?"

"Yeah."

"I know I said I wouldn't beat theu guy up, but you've got to give me some info."

"Fine."

"Is he a huge jackass?"

"No, he's really not. He'd do anything for aunt Elliot, he really would. And they'd already known each other for years before they got together."

"That's good. So I really won't have to kick his ass?"

"You really won't."

"Okay, then."

It's quiet for a couple of minutes before my Uncle Barry speaks again. "So do you want to talk about… this thing with your dad?"

"What the hell am I really supposed to say… about it? Really?" I quietly ask rhetorically. "I mean… now, am I not supposed to angry that he's basically ignored me for years? Am I now supposed to be the doting daughter because my dad is… dying?"

"Look, I'll be perfectly honest without. Just because you know what you know now, it doesn't make anything else he did to you any better. Or any more forgivable. Nobody would blame you if you didn't forgive him and if you just wanted to leave things how they are just now, with you staying with Aunt Elliot in California and not having a lot, if anything, to do with him."

Another minute or so of silence passes. "The one thing I want to know though is why. Why did he think that leaving me with Aunt Elliot was the right thing to do? Why wasn't he honest and tell me from the start what was going on?"

"I just want to say now, before I tell you what I know, that I don't condone anything that he did," uncle Barry quietly says. "But after you first ran, your dad received what cannot be called anything other than an interrogation. According to him, the reason he and your mom didn't tell you was because you were too young. They didn't want you to deal with something you didn't understand. You were only four. And, when the cancer returned, he thought it would be best for you if you went to live with your aunt Elliot. He knew that you and your mom quite honestly hated each other, and that you and Elliot were pretty close. He, for some twisted reason, thought it would be easier on you if just hated him rather than finding out the truth."

"That… that doesn't make any sense."

"I know, kid."

"And… why, after the first time he got sick, make sure that we were all closer and it didn't get to the stage we're at now, where he abandoned me for five months without telling me why, barely getting in contact and me getting to the stage where I hate him and feel guilty as all hell for saying that."

"I really don't know," Barry sighs.

It's quiet again. There isn't anything I can think to say.

Uncle Barry speaks. "So how's school?"

"It's good." That conversation continues like that. A few minutes of just small talk

and random conversation. It's good, not to think about what's going on, just for a little while. Unfortunately, the conversation dies down.

"Do you want to go back inside? Let everyone know that you're okay?"

I shake my head. "Another few minutes, please?"

"Sure. Whenever you're ready."

* * *

It another half-hour, maybe, before I go back inside. The reason I actually go in being that it's now pitch black outside, and I was freezing being outside in December with a thin sweater on that barely keeps me warm at night in California.

But just because I'm inside, doesn't mean I want to talk to anyone, which is precisely why I'm in my room alone, and not downstairs where everyone else is.

There's a knock at my door. "Alyssa, honey, it's me. It's Aunt Elliot. Can I come in?"

"Yeah."

I hear the door opening, but I don't look up.

"Aly, sweetie, I just wanted to say that we don't have to stay here, if you don't want. We can go back to California early or we can go stay somewhere else if you'd like."

"Really?"

"Yeah, if you want to. It's up to you."

"I want to go home."

"Okay. I'll go and make some calls."

* * *

I have kept my cell phone near me at all times since Elliot called earlier. I'm really worried about Alyssa. I hope she's okay; it doesn't make sense for her just to run off. Elliot must be going out of her mind. She sounded so frazzled when I spoke to her earlier. That was about two hours ago.

Turk texted me twenty minutes ago to see if there was any update. I had to reply that were was none. He responded with '_She'll show up soon. It'll be okay. Alyssa's a sensible kid; she'll show up soon, man. Try not to worry yet." _I could say that I wasn't worrying, not yet anyway, but the way I'm tapping my fingers on the counter top would contradict that.

Than my phone rings, and I answer it more quickly than I think I ever have before. "Hello?"

"_JD, it's me." _Elliot's voice is calmer than it was when I spoke to her earlier. I'll take that as a good sign.

"Hey. Have you found Alyssa? Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she's… she's as okay as can be expected. Listen I need you to pick us up from the airport tomorrow morning, at 2AM."

"Tomorrow is Christmas eve…you're coming home early? What's happened out there?"

"I'll explain everything when we're home. Can you pick us up, please?"

"Yeah, I'll be there. Just… is everything okay?"

"I'll explain at home, okay?"

"Okay. I love you."

"I love you too."

The call clicks off.

* * *

Since before I cam here this week, I was so looking forward to leaving. I thought I'd feel relieved when I left, feel like _I_ should be getting one of those 'I survived' t-shirts. But it feels nothing like that. I just want to be out of here.

I'm standing at the front door, just waiting to leave. I said goodbye to everyone (minus my dad. Did you really think I'd speak to him?) in the living room, but my granddad has come to the door.

"So, I'll call in a couple of days," Aunt Elliot says to my granddad. "Talk about… everything."

"Yeah," Granddad quietly replies. "Well, have a safe flight."

My granddad then hugs me, but when he does it's like he's apologising, which, to be honest, is not helpful.

I'm just about to step out of the door when I hear… you-know-who's voice from behind me. "Alyssa, I know you're not going to talk to me, but just listen. I bought in apartment out in California, near where Aunt Elliot lives. I'll be moving out there next week. I'm hoping that when I go out there, I'll get to see you and hopefully make up for some of the time I lost and for some of the things I've done. But I would understand if you didn't. I've written the address and phone number on this piece of paper. Just in case you want it later."

I think he might be holding the piece of paper out, but I'm looking down at the ground so I can't be sure.

"Lys, do you want me to take the paper?" Aunt Elliot quietly says.

After I few seconds, I nod just slightly.

"I hope you'll get in touch," my dad says once Aunt Elliot has taken the piece of paper.

"I wouldn't hold your breath," Aunt Elliot snarls.

After that, I walk out of the front door, not bothering to even give my dad one last look.

* * *

You'd think I'd be happy that Elliot's coming back from her parents' early, but really I'm not. It's not that I don't want to see her, of course I do, but something is obviously wrong. That's what is worrying me. And what's worrying me more is I don't know what is going on. I'm really concerned about Alyssa. Something serious must've caused her to disappear for that time, because she's not the type of girl to run away for no reason. I hope everything is okay, but it's obviously not.

Unsurprisingly given that it's 2AM, the airport is practically dead. That fact makes it so easy to spot Elliot and Alyssa when they walk through to the main hallway. I'm not kidding, my heart sinks when I see them both. They could easily be different people from a couple of days ago. Alyssa is just looking down at the ground as she walks, dragging her suitcase behind her. She looks… lost. Not in the she doesn't know where she is way, but like she doesn't know anything. And Elliot, she just looks so worried, but about what I really don't know.

"Hey," I solemnly say when they're both close enough to hear me.

Alyssa doesn't respond. I'm not sure she even heard me, because she's still starting at the ground. "I'm going to the bathroom she says a second or two later. Her voice is low, not cheery like it normally is.

Once Alyssa is out of earshot, I ask Elliot, "What happened in Connecticut?"

"It's such a mess, JD," Elliot quietly replies. "I'll explain it all at home, but Alyssa's parents got divorced. And her dad is dying."

"Oh my god."

Tears start rolling down Elliot's face. "I have no idea how to help Alyssa through this."

"It's okay," I soothingly say, as I hug Elliot. "We'll help her through it together. How, I don't know, but we'll do it. Somehow."

"So much for a Merry Christmas," Elliot quietly remarks.

* * *


	22. My Denial

**

* * *

**

AN: First of all, I apologise profusely for the ridiculous length of time it has taken me to update. Real life gets in the way _so_ much. This isn't my favourite chapter. I'm not a fan of it. But I hope you'll read it and review it anyway.

**Special mention for Alice, because she's dealt with me going "AAAAAHHH!! I can't write it *cries*" for the whole time it has taken me to write this. Alice, you're awesome!! :)**

* * *

It's been two days since Elliot and Alyssa returned from Connecticut after hearing the shocking news that Aly's father has terminal cancer. Unsurprisingly, Alyssa is taking it badly. Yesterday she barely left her room and even if she did she didn't speak a word. It didn't make for a merry Christmas Day. To be honest, I think we all forgot that it was even Christmas.

Alyssa's dad has called Elliot four times since they got back. I have never seen Elliot as angry as she is whenever he has phoned. Which is why she goes out to the hall whenever he phones, because she figures it's hard enough for Alyssa right now without having to hear her aunt yelling at her father for what he's done to her. It's just as well she's in the hall; I can still hear her yelling. God only knows what the neighbours must think. But that doesn't matter.

Just before her cell phone rang again, Elliot instructed me to make pancakes. Those are Alyssa's favourites and Elliot thinks that they might cheer her up if only slightly. I'm still looking down at the frying pan when I hear the door opening and closing before I hear Elliot's footsteps entering the kitchen.

"She won't even talk to us, and he expects me to try to get her to talk to him," Elliot incredulously but quietly vents. She shuts her eyes and puts her head in her hands.

Not sure what else to say, I reply, "Pancakes are done."

Elliot looks up at me, and it's obvious she hasn't slept in two days (which, let me tell you, is remarkable). "I'll go tell Alyssa." Elliot leaves the kitchen, sighing as she goes. A few seconds, I hear her knock on Alyssa's bedroom and quietly say something through it. I don't know if there's any reply though.

When I walk through from the kitchen, carrying three plates of pancakes, Elliot's already sitting at the table.

"If you have any ideas on the best way to help Alyssa through this, please tell me them because I got nothing."

Before I respond, Alyssa's bedroom door opens, and the elusive teenager walks into the living room, dressed and with her hair done, with her purse in her hand as if she's going out. I suppose she may have done that to make herself feel better. But something else about her is… off.

"Morning," she says brightly. And there it is. "Oh, pancakes," she grins. "Awesome."

Elliot furrows her eyebrows. "Are you okay?" She asked concernedly. She doesn't have to say it, but it's obvious what Elliot is referring to.

"I'm fine," Alyssa replies, shrugging as is there's nothing going on. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, with everything that's going on –"

"Oh, look at the time," Alyssa interrupts Elliot, glancing at her watch. "I'd love to sit and chat, I would. But I'm meeting some of the girls down at the mall. Apparently there's a sale on." She shoves part of her pancake in her mouth. "These are good, by the way," she comments, her mouth still half full. "Can I keep these for later?"

"Uh… sure," I sceptically respond.

I throw a confused glance Elliot's way, while she begins to speak. "Alyssa, you don't have to act like-"

"Okay, I really have to run," Alyssa once again interjects, standing up and heading towards the door. "I should be back about dinner time."

"Lys," Elliot calmly says.

"Bye!" Alyssa happily says, as she closes the door behind her.

For a moment or two, Elliot and I just stare at the door, blinking.

"Well… she seems to taking things well," I tentatively say.

Elliot shakes her head. "This was just what I was afraid would happen."

"What? She seems like she's coping."

"She's not. She's in complete denial, acting like there's nothing going on. By pretending like there's nothing going on, she'll hope that it will all go away. And she'll stick to that routine until it really hits her, and when it hits her, it's gonna hit her hard. Trust me, it's a tried and tested technique in the Reid family. And the worst part of it is there's nothing that can be done for her. We've just got to let it run its course and wait until Alyssa accepts what it happening in her own time."

"Wow."

Elliot frowns. "This is going to be rough."

* * *

Alyssa's been out for most of the day now, and Elliot hasn't stopped fretting.

"Do you think she's really out with friends?" Elliot asks, more rhetorically than anything else. "She hasn't been in touch all day. She normally at least texts or calls to say that she's got off the train."

"Maybe she just forgot. Maybe she was just having a good time with her friends."

"Maybe," Elliot frowns. "I just hope she has met up with friends and isn't wandering somewhere alone."

"I'm sure she's with her friends. And even if she isn't, she's a smart girl; she wouldn't do anything stupid. Maybe she just needs some time on her own."

"Ten hours though?"

"She'll be back soon."

As coincidence would have it, the apartment buzzer goes. Elliot rushes over to it. "Hello?" she says over the intercom phone. Then she sighs. "Come on up," she dejectedly responds to the other half of the conversation. "Turk and Carla," Elliot explains as she walks back towards the living room. "And Izzy."

"Oh right enough, Carla said they might come around for a little while."

"Thanks for telling me, by the way," Elliot quips.

By this time, Turk and Carla have made it upstairs to the apartment. At least, I assume they have because someone is knocking on the door.

"It's open, guys," Elliot says, loudly enough that Turk and Carla can hear her.

Less than a second later, Turk walks in with Carla, who is carrying Izzy. Elliot stands up to greet them (read: hug them). I do the same.

"Hey," Carla cheerily says. "Elliot, are you okay? You seemed weird on the intercom."

"Sorry. I thought you might have been Alyssa," Elliot answers, as Carla hands Izzy to her. "Hello, Izzy." Elliot proceeds to talking gibberish to Izzy in a baby voice.

"Oh yeah, how is Alyssa?" Turk asks.

"She's… well, she's…" Not quite sure how to describe it.

"She's in denial." Thank you Elliot. "And by that I do not mean she is using the phrase 'I can't believe this is happening'. I mean she is flat out acting as if absolutely nothing is happening. Or at least she was this morning. She left ten hours ago and hasn't called to say that she got off the train or that she's going to a friend's house or anything. She normally never leaves it so long without calling," Elliot concludes, sitting down on a stool before bouncing Izzy on her knee.

"Did she say where she was going?" Carla asks.

Elliot shakes her head. "Just that she was meeting up with some friends at the mall."

"She's probably just having a good time with her friends and forgot to call," Carla reassuringly says, as she takes a seat on the couch next to where Turk is sitting "And how are you coping with all this?" She asks Elliot.

"I haven't slept in two days and I'm so angry at my brother that I could kill him with my bare hands, but aside from that okay. And I have spent all day venting about it and could really do without talking about it." Elliot lifts Izzy up and spins her round so that the toddler is facing her. "Isn't that right, Izzy?" she asks the one-year-old in a baby voice.

"So how are you guys?" I ask Turk and Carla, as I sit down near where they are.

The pair exchanges a glance before Turk begins speaking. "Actually, there's something we want to talk to you about."

"Sure. Shoot," I say.

"Actually, there's something we wanted to talk to both of you about," Carla adds.

This catches Elliot's attention, which can be difficult when she's playing with Izzy. "Okay," she hesitantly says, before walking over to where the rest of us are, carrying Izzy with her. "What's up, guys?"

"Well, we've been talking and –" Unfortunately Carla s interrupted by the sound of the front door opening.

Much to Elliot's relief, Alyssa walks in, carrying a few bags. "You would not _believe_ the hassle I had trying to get home," she sighs, dropping her shopping bags. "Oh, hey Turk, Carla. Hey, Izzy."

"What happened when you were trying to get home?" Elliot asks.

"Okay, so I went into the train station and my train was already there so I got on. Obviously. Five minutes later all the power in this train cuts out and we're all chucked off the train because that one is cancelled. We're told to go to another platform where the next one will depart from. That train isn't for another forty minutes. Forty minutes passes. The monitor with the train details on it starts to become really pedantic by telling everyone that the train is delayed by one minute. Then two. Then three, until the train is delayed fifty freaking minutes! I was delayed an hour and a half for a fifteen minute journey. How annoying is that?" Alyssa rhetorically asks.

"Why didn't you call?" Elliot asks her. "We could've come to get you from the train station."

"Oh right. My cell phone died the death on the train in. I haven't charged my cell in like… a week. I've lost my charger; can't think where I left it."

Actually, Alyssa does know where she lost her charger. She left it in Connecticut.

"But oh well," she continues. "I bought a new one. And some new clothes."

"Coolio," Elliot responds. "Maybe show me what you got later?"

"Uh, yeah," Alyssa answers. "I'm going to go and put all this stuff away."

"Wait, before you go," Carla says. "How are you?" The way Carla speaks, it's as if she's just trying to make conversation. Trying too hard to make normal conversation. It's obvious what the real intent is behind the question.

Alyssa just shrugs and laughs slightly. "I'm fine," she replies, before walking away into her room.

"Wow," Carla mutters quietly once Alyssa is out of earshot. "That is screwed up."

Even Turk shakes his head. "Yeah. I would not want to be either of you two when the proverbial hits the fan with this one. That level of denial would win first place on America's Got Talent."

Elliot looks a bit worried. "I'm going to go see if she's okay," she says, handing Izzy over to me.

"Won't that seem a bit obvious?" Turk asks.

Elliot sighs. "I'll just ask her if she wants anything to eat or something. I'll make it work." Elliot then knocks on Alyssa's door, and goes into her room.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" I ask Turk and Carla.

Once again, Turk and Carla exchange a glance.

"Actually, this probably isn't the best time," Carla says.

"Yeah… we, um… have to go," Turk adds. He stands up and takes back Izzy. "How about we speak to you tomorrow?"

"Sure," I hesitantly say.

"Tell Elliot we said bye," Carla says, as they walk out of the apartment.

That was… weird.

* * *

It's the next morning and Alyssa is still in her extremely well performed denial.

"Hey, is there toast on the go?" She cheerily asks, as she sits down at the breakfast table. "Yum," she mutters, as she takes a slice from the toast holder on the table.

"How did you sleep?" Elliot asks.

"Well, I guess," Alyssa smiles. "Except I had a really weird dream. At first I was travelling on a plane, and then the plane turned into a giant marshmallow."

"That is weird," I state. At this point I notice that Elliot has her sceptical face on.

"Yeah," Alyssa agrees. "But the marshmallow was delicious. I should buy marshmallows when I'm out today."

"Where are you going today?" Elliot asks.

"Physics revision class," Alyssa replies. "God, help me."

"You have a revision class so soon after Christmas?" I say.

"Yeah, we have a couple of exams after the holidays so the teacher offered to run a revision class," Alyssa explains. "And she promised to bring everybody cake and chocolate, so I'm there."

"Lys, are… are you sure you're okay to go into school?" Elliot concernedly asks.

"Of course I am," she responds quickly.

"Because…" Elliot continues. "If you didn't feel up to it… I'm sure your teacher would understand."

"Understand me missing the revision class?" Alyssa questions. "Clearly you have never met my physics teacher. If I miss the class, she'll kill me on the first day back. As much as I would love to skip the class, it's so not worth it." Alyssa glances at her watch. "God, is that the time already? I better go," She says, standing up from the table.

"I'll give you a lift if you want to wait a little while and finish your breakfast," I offer.

"No, it's okay," Alyssa answers. "I told Kate I would meet her on the walk there. The class finishes at one but I think a few of us are going to get something to eat after it."

"Okay," Elliot responds. "If you have trouble getting home again, call me okay?"

"Yeah, I will," Alyssa answers, as she picks her bag up from the living room. "Okay, I really have to go now. Bye." She walks out of the apartment.

"My god, her denial is hardcore," Elliot frowns. "Now she's even lying to us."

I look at Elliot with my eyebrows furrowed. "She is?"

"I'm sure she is. I swear I heard her walking around the apartment at two in the morning."

"Maybe she just got up for a drink or something."

Elliot shakes her head. "She was pacing about for a while though. An hour at least. God, I hope she's not going insomniac. That's the last thing she needs right now."

"It wouldn't be surprising if she did though," I say. "She's going through a lot, and she isn't exactly dealing with it well."

"Yeah," Elliot sighs sadly. "I just hope she gets past this insane denial quickly. The sooner she does the less painful it'll be for her."

* * *

God, I hate physics. Actually, physics is fine; I can study it at home just fine. It's just the class is quite boring. And a Christmas holiday revision class is even worse, especially when I think of all the more interesting things I could be doing. Like… nothing. Aren't holidays for relaxing anyway?

There's another reason this revision class is ridiculously boring. I'm here on my own. Normally in class I sit next to Alyssa and, to be honest, we spend more time gossiping and chatting about random crap (as girls do) than actually doing work, which explains why I'm at a Christmas revision class. But obviously she won't be here. I feel so bad for her. I can't even begin to imagine what she's going through.

Right now the teacher is going through the register to see who is here before the class starts. The teacher glances at the register and then up at the classroom. "No Alyssa today?" She asks. "Is she still in, where was it, Colorado?"

"Connecticut," I respond. "And no, she's back. But I don't think she'll be coming in today."

"How come?" one of the other girls in the class asks.

"Well…" Before I have a chance to think of a good explanation that doesn't involve the class the whole story, I'm interrupted by a certain Miss Reid walking through the door.

"Sorry I'm late," Alyssa says, as she sits down next to me.

"We thought you weren't joining us," the teacher says to her.

Alyssa looks confused. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"We thought you were still on vacation," the teacher responds, before she begins teaching the revision class.

"So, um, how are you?" I ask quietly.

"I'm fine," Alyssa smiles. "How are you?"

"I'm okay, I guess." Okay, that was weird. The other day she called me up in floods of tears to tell me what had happened. And today she's acting like there's nothing going on.

"So what are we doing?" Alyssa asks, as she opens her workbook. "Wave functions? Damn… This sucks."

"Yeah," I sigh. "Did you get a lift here, by the by?"

"No, I walked." When Alyssa looks up, I notice that her eyes are quite red and bloodshot. "I needed the exercise, anyway," she adds.

"Didn't you go skiing when you were in Connecticut?"

"Nah, I ended up just meeting up with some of my old friends. It was fun. And I went to Mass. That wasn't so much fun, although my aunt did almost beat up my uncle during it. That was pretty funny."

"Why?"

"Oh, so he wouldn't tell anyone that she's pregnant when he figured it out before anyone else."

"How did he do that?" I ask.

"He's an obstetrician; apparently he can tell these things."

"Girls." The teacher turns around from the board, glaring at us. That is an instruction for us to shut the hell up.

"Sorry," Alyssa and I say at the same time.

For about five minutes, the room is silent as we all concentrate on copying what is written on the board. People gradually start chatting again.

"So, um… have you… heard anything from your dad since you got back?"

"Hey, you know what we should do," Alyssa says, completely avoiding the question. "We should all meet up on like the last day of the holidays and go for dinner or something."

"Lys-"

"It'd be fun. It could be you, me, Michael, the guys from the hospital, the girls from the lunch table."

"Alyssa."

"We could go to that new place. What's it called? TGI or something?"

"Lys!"

"Hey!" Once again the teacher is glaring at us.

"Sorry," we both say.

Alyssa immediately re-concentrates on the work on the board.

Lesson I've learned from this physics class: there's denial and then there's _that_.

* * *

The first day back at the hospital after a holiday is nightmare. More specifically, getting ready for the first day back at the hospital is a nightmare. Because you've been away for a week or so, your routine is all over the place.

As I finish pouring glasses of water in the kitchen, I can hear the toilet being flushed. A few seconds later, Elliot walks into the kitchen and takes a glass of water.

"This kid has no sense of timing," she complains, before taking a swig of her water.

Of course, if you're Elliot and you're going through another bout of morning sickness, getting back into the usual routine is a bit more tricky.

"You alright for going in to work?" I ask.

Elliot nods. "I'm okay. I should be completely fine in an hour or so. " After taking another drink from her glass, Elliot says, "I'm just going to brush my teeth."

A few moments after Elliot leaves the kitchen, Alyssa walks in. "Is there any coffee in here?"

"Coffee?" I ask. "A little young to be hitting the hard stuff, aren't you?"

"Yeah, well, there was a Grey's_ Anatomy_ marathon on last night and I stayed up until four AM watching it. Which was of course, stupid, but what the hell?"

And that, of course, was a lie. She wasn't watching the TV. Elliot and I both heard her walking about the apartment at different times during the night. But I'm not going to question her on it.

"There's a jar of coffee in the top cupboard," I answer. "Where are you going today?"

"Hospital," Alyssa says. "All the volunteers go back today." Then she yawns.

"Are you sure it's a good idea going in if you've had three hours sleep at the most?" I say.

Alyssa rolls her eyes. "I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Seriously. I'm fine. Or I would be if people stopped asking me that." Alyssa then walks out of the kitchen.

"Is she alright?" Elliot asks as she steps back into the kitchen.

"Apparently she was up until four AM watching _Grey's Anatomy." _

Elliot shakes her head. "That's four days she's been up now. How she isn't collapsing just through tiredness now, I will never know."

* * *

Another fine, yet busy day at Sacred Heart Hospital.

Earlier on in the morning, Turk paged me asking if I wanted to meet with him and Carla in the cafeteria at out break time. When I enter the cafeteria, I notice that Elliot is already sitting with them.

"So my options are either leave a voicemail, send an e-mail, or wait ten or twelve years and that kid tell them himself," Elliot half-jokingly says.

Carla nods. "Oh, I'd _definitely_ go with the third option," she sarcastically replies.

"That was my favourite too." I add as I sit down. "So why did you want us all to have lunch together?"

Carla sighs nervously. "You know that there was something we wanted to tell you the other day when we came over?"

"Yeah," Elliot and I simultaneously say.

"Well we were hoping –" And just like the other day at home, Carla is interrupted, this time by Elliot's cell phone.

"You still have _Jesus, Take The Wheel_ as your cell phone ring?" Turk asks. "Seriously?"

Elliot glares at him. Then she frowns. "It's Alyssa's dad." I can see her getting angry already. "This'll be fun. What?" She snaps as she answers her phone. "Do you really think that being nearby is really going to make her want to talk to you? You really think that's going to make it any better? I am _not_ going to make her speak to you if she doesn't want to. Don't you dare start hassling her! Don't you think you've put her through enough? Fine. I will tell her you're in California but that is as much as I am doing. And if you start harassing her, I swear to God I will kill you with my bare hands." The call ends there. Elliot almost slams her cell phone on to the table before putting her head in her hands.

"I only clearly heard one half of that conversation," Turk quietly says, "but what a jackass."

"What was the idiot saying this time?" Carla asks.

"He has now officially moved out here from Connecticut," Elliot replies. She looks up and her face has quite literally gone red with anger. She's shaking too. "And he expects me to _tell _Alyssa she has to speak to him."

Carla shakes her head. "What a jerk."

"Are you alright?" I ask Elliot a few seconds later as she stares directly ahead of her at nothing in particular.

"You know what, I'm going to stand outside for a few minutes to calm down. If I stay in here I'm just going to stew."

"Do you want me to come downstairs with you?"

"No, thanks."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," Elliot says. "I just need a few minutes to myself. I'll be back as soon as I calm down a bit." With that, Elliot walks out of the cafeteria.

"Well, now obviously isn't the time to be talking about this," I hear Carla say to Turk.

"What?" I ask.

"We'll tell you later, dude," Turk answers.

Fair enough.

* * *

Chart organising duty is never fun. There has never been a more boring task allocated to volunteers than that of organising charts into alphabetical order. The silver lining of this though is that it gives me a chance to speak to Alyssa. Well, when I say speak…

"Are you okay?" I ask. "You've barely spoken two words since we started this."

"I'm fine, Michael," Alyssa pleasantly replies. "I'm just concentrating on trying to do this."

"Okay then." There are a few moments of silence. "Because if you… were upset about what happened in Connecticut, that would be okay."

"I'm fine," she repeats. "Jeez, why are some of these German names so difficult to spell?"

Wait a second. "You're German," I state.

Alyssa lowers her eyebrows. "Yeah, but… my name's easy to spell. Unlike you, McConaghy."

"Well played."

And the silence returns for a while, until Alyssa's cell phone starts ringing. She glances at it before she ignores it completely. Weird… but fair enough. Maybe it's just me, but she seems to be really frowning when the ring tone cuts off.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I ask again.

Alyssa exhales angrily. "For goodness sake, I'm fine. Would you please stop asking me that?"

"I'm sorry. It's just… that day you came back from Connecticut, you called absolutely distraught about what had happened. And the last few days, you've been acting like there's nothing at all going on. I just… I just want to know if you're coping okay, which I don't think you are."

Alyssa glares at me. It's scary. "I appreciate your concern, but I'm coping fine. Thank you."

Which of course means she's not. "If you say so," I respond. "But… if you ever need to talk…"

"I won't need to talk because there is nothing to talk about," Alyssa snaps. Then she shakes her head. "Sorry. I didn't meant to snap at you. It's just… I'm sick to death of everybody asking me if I'm okay. I get it here, I get it at home at least six times a day. It getting on my nerves. I know people are concerned, but I wish they'd just leave me alone."

"Yeah I get that."

Alyssa's phone starts ringing again. And once again she ignores it.

"Are you going to get that?" I ask.

Alyssa shakes her head. "Nah. It's the network. They keep trying to offer me an upgrade or something. If I ignore it for a couple of days; it'll go away eventually."

"Does that ever work?"

Alyssa shrugs. "It's worth a shot." She stands up, keeping her cell phone in her hand. "I'm going to go down stairs to get something to drink. You want anything?" She asks.

"No thanks."

"Okay then. Be back in a few minutes." Alyssa walks off down the corridor.

* * *

So after a few days of trying to tell Elliot and I something and being interrupted every time, Turk and Carla are understandably getting quite frustrated. And for that matter, so are Elliot and I! We want to know what they want to tell us. But other things have just had to take priority for a while. Carla, however, thinks she has found a solution to the interruption problem, as she explains while we stand at the nurses' station.

"We really need to talk to you about… something," she says. "So how about the four of go out for dinner one night and Turk and I actually tell you what's going on."

I lower my eyebrows and curiously look at her. "You're not pregnant again, are you?"

Carla looks at me like I'm an idiot. "No," she responds.

I glance to the side and notice that Elliot is also looking at me weirdly.

"Anyway," Elliot continues. "Dinner sounds good. When?"

"Is tomorrow night good for you two?" Carla asks.

Elliot and I nod.

Carla smiles. "Great."

A second later, Nurse Roberts walks over to the nurses' station. "Somebody found this cell phone in a paper bucket downstairs. Anyone recognise it?"

Elliot looks at the cell phone "Yeah, it's Alyssa's phone," she answers, seeming slightly puzzled. Nurse Roberts hands it over to her. "Five missed calls," she mutters.

"She's probably had her friends calling the phone to try and find it," Carla says. "You could call one of them and tell them you've got her phone."

It's almost as if Elliot isn't even listening. Her eyebrows are lowered and she's concentrating on the phone. She then goes to the pocket of her lab coat, takes out her own cell phone and looks between the two. "I fricking knew it."

"What?" I ask.

"He's been trying to call her," Elliot frowns. "Repeatedly."

Carla rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "Jerk."

"Do you think she knows he's been calling her?" I ask.

"Why do you think it was in the trash?"

* * *

Lunch time. Yee haa.

As per usual, I'm meeting with Elliot for lunch. The cafeteria is quite busy most of the tables are full. To the right of me there is a table that about eight of the volunteers, including Alyssa, Michael and Kate, have squashed themselves around. And directly opposite me is the table I'm looking for where Elliot and Cara are sitting.

"Hey," I say as I sit down. "Did you give Alyssa her phone back?"

Elliot frowns. "Not yet. I'll give her it at home. That way I can talk to her about it without upsetting her here."

"Did he try calling again?" I ask.

Elliot rolls her eyes. "Yep. Three times in the space of twenty minutes before I switched the thing off."

Carla had a quizzical look on her face. "Why didn't Alyssa just do that?"

"I don't know," Elliot says, shaking her head. "I'll talk to her when I get home."

"Do you think he'll stop calling her?" Carla asks.

"Well, if I know what my brother's capable of, which I think I do, the answer to that is no," Elliot sighs. "But I can't have him harassing her like that. And threatening to kill him clearly didn't work."

"We could always speak to Alyssa about getting her cell phone number changed," I suggest.

"That's maybe an idea. Whatever the way, we have to get him to stop hassling her." Elliot frowns. "Anyway, changing the subject," Elliot continues, "Carla, what were you saying about dinner tomorrow night?"

"Oh, yeah. Turk has booked a table at the new Italian place on Fourth for seven and he's just checking with the sitter what time she can look after Izzy until."

"Awesome," I say.

A second later, there's a disturbance from the table where the volunteers are sitting. Alyssa is standing up.

"For the love of god, how many times do I need to tell you people that I'm okay," She angrily says. "I'm fine so you don't need to keep asking me. I'm fine. And I'm not about it because there's nothing I want to talk about. Okay? I don't want to talk about the fact that my dad abandoned me on my aunt's doorstep six months ago. I don't want to talk about how I've been lied to for most of my life. I don't want to talk about how my parents have got divorced and how I'll probably never see my real mom again because we've never got on, we've always hated each other's guts so why would we try to make contact." I think Alyssa's voiced cracked there. "And most of all I do not want to talk about the fact that my dad has… cancer and is… dying. I don't want to talk… I don't want any of it. Stop asking me if I'm okay because I'm obviously _not_ okay." Alyssa begins to walk towards the cafeteria doors.

"Lys," Elliot shouts on her.

When Alyssa turns around, it's obvious that she's about to cry. "Aunt Elliot could I just be left alone for five minutes or something?" Alyssa walks out of the cafeteria before getting an answer.

Once Alyssa is out of the cafeteria, Elliot puts her head in her hands. "God," she sighs, "You know what, I'm going after her." Elliot goes to stand up but she's interrupted by Carla.

"That's maybe not such a good idea," she says seriously.

"What?"

"Yeah," I say, agreeing with Carla. "She just said she wanted five minutes alone. Going after her will probably only upset her more. And she won't go far."

Sighing reluctantly, Elliot sits down. "I guess you're right."

* * *

"That's been two hours now and there's no sign of her," Elliot says as she leans on the nurses' station. "I'm really getting worried now."

"Elliot, she's probably gone home," Carla suggests.

"I've tried calling home and there's no answer. I can't call her cell because _I_ have it. God, what if she's gone and done something stupid?"

I go to hug Elliot. "She won't have, Elliot. She's probably just sitting in her room, not wanting to answer the phone."

"What if she hasn't though? God, I never should have listened to you when you said give her ten minutes before going to find her," Elliot growls. "You know what, I'm just going to go home see if she's there and if she's not then… I'll have to go looking for her."

Elliot begins to step away from the nurses' station as one of the new orderlies rounds the corner.

"I don't mean to alarm anybody," he says, "but there is a blonde girl crying hysterically in the supply closet."

You can almost see Elliot's heart sinking. "We've found her," she frowns as she walks in the direction of the supply closet.

* * *

For the record, a supply closet floor is not the most comfortable of places to have been sitting crying for the last two hours. But you make do with what you've got. And to be honest, the comfort level of the supply closet hasn't been at the forefront of my mind for the last two hours.

I didn't mean to shout at my friends. I know they were only trying to help. But it all just hit me. Everything that's happening. And since I don't like crying in the middle of a hospital cafeteria in front of people I don't know, I couldn't stay in there.

I'm still sitting on the floor, bawling my eyes out when the supply closet door opens. Again. Damn. I glance up, but only for a second, and see that it's my aunt Elliot.

"Oh, sweetie," she sympathetically says as she sits next to me. "I'm so sorry."

"But… I… but…" God, I'm crying so much that I can't actually verbalise a coherent answer. Instead, I just start crying even more.

"I know," Aunt Elliot says. "I know you're upset and I know things are confusing… and scary. But whatever happens with your dad, with anything, I'm here, okay? If you ever want to talk about it, or rant or cry or anything, just come and talk to me."

I nod. Still crying, though. "I can't… stop crying…" I think I tear-hiccupped all the way through that.

"I know. And it's okay to cry. Cry as long as you need to. Aunt Elliot hugs me.

I keep crying.

* * *

About thirty minutes later, there is still no sign of Elliot or Alyssa. I hope everything is okay. That's probably a really ridiculous to hope for. Of course, it's not going to be okay. There's a seventeen-year-old crying in a supply closet because it's just hit her that her dad has terminal cancer. There is no way that it'll be okay.

"Still waiting?" Turk asks as he walks up to the nurses' station.

"Yeah."

"Poor kid," Turk mutters.

A few seconds later, Alyssa walks around the corridor, closely followed by Elliot. This is meant in the least offensive way possible: Alyssa looks terrible, which is to be expected of someone who has been crying for the last two hours. Her eyes are really red and puffy; there are tear marks all the way down her cheeks. She looks as if she's just had a house dropped on her. The poor girl's still crying, but not hysterically.

"Are you okay?" I ask Alyssa when she stands at the nurses' station.

Alyssa just shakes her head and her eyes fill up even more.

"I'm going to take Alyssa home," Elliot says. "She shouldn't be here."

"Yeah, that's best. What do you want me to say to Kelso?"

"Tell him that if he has a problem with me leaving he can kiss my ass. I'm not staying here and leaving Alyssa alone when she's in this state. No way in hell."

"Okay," I reply. "See you at home."

"See you at home," Elliot repeats. "If you see her friends..."

"I'll tell them. Just go home and take care of her. She needs it."

"Bye," Elliot sadly says, before turning around and heading out of the hospital with Alyssa.

* * *

As you might have guessed, Alyssa hasn't really ventured far out of her room today. The difference with today, however, is that Alyssa has been talking if you go in to take her a drink of something. And she did eat breakfast with us this morning. It was quite heartbreaking to look at her, though. Her eyes were red and swollen, and the poor girl just looked lost and dazed. She's gone back into her room now, and has been in there for the last couple of hours. While she's been chatting if you take something to her, she stares up at her ceiling.

I must say though, I'm impressed by Alyssa's friends. Both Michael and Kate called last night and this morning to see how Alyssa was. They called us because they knew her cell would still be switched off and they really wanted to know how she was. It's sweet.

It's four in the afternoon now, and Elliot and I are supposed to be meeting Turk and Carla for dinner at seven.

"Do you think we should go?" Elliot tentatively asks. "I don't know that it's a good idea to leave her alone."

"I'm not sure either. But Turk and Carla seemed like they had something really important to talk to us about."

Elliot sighs. "We can't cancel on them. They got a sitter for Izzy; they've booked a table at a restaurant. Something serious is going on." Elliot pauses for a minute. She opens her mouth – just about to speak – but she's interrupted.

"You don't need to stay with me," Alyssa says, standing at her bedroom door. "I'm okay, really. I'm not going to… like… slit my wrists or jump out the window or pop fifty thousand pills and wash them down with three gallons of tequila. I'll be okay, really."

"We know, hon, but we just don't want to leave you," Elliot sympathetically says.

"We're just here for you, Alyssa," I add.

"I know, and I appreciate it, I really do. But… I don't want to you to feel as though you have to treat me as if I'm going to smash to pieces at any given moment. Because I'm not." Alyssa sighs. "How about I call Michael and Kate and ask them if they want to come over to hang out and so you don't have to stay here? Would that be okay?"

I glance to Elliot, who nods. "I think that would be okay," I reply.

"But if Michael and Kate can't come over, I'm going to stay, and JD, you go to meet Turk and Carla at the restaurant. And Alyssa, I'm not trying to wrap you in cotton wool. I'm just making sure you're okay."

Alyssa smiles. "I know," she says. "Okay, I'm going to call Kate and Michael."

"Okay."

* * *

Elliot and I are just about getting ready to leave. I'm sitting at the table, while Elliot is finalising her outfit. It has taken a while. Elliot has been falling out with her wardrobe lately, out-pregnancy-growing some of her favourite outfits.

Alyssa's friend Kate arrived about half an hour ago. The two girls are sitting in the living room, gossiping about something or other.

"Oh, and you know there was that party on Christmas Eve?" Kate quickly says.

"Yeah," Alyssa enthusiastically responds.

"Well you would not believe what Rebecca Mackenzie –"

"That bitch!" The girls say simultaneously, and pretend to spit on the floor.

O….kay….

"- was wearing," Kate continues.

"What?"

"This hideous green top with this disgusting red mini-skirt."

Alyssa frowns disgustedly. "Ew."

"I know. She looked like a very bad and very ugly Christmas tree."

What's been great is that there has been no mention of Alyssa's dad and what's been going on. Alyssa seems to have really cheered up.

And there's Elliot. She walks through the living room. "Finally found a top that fits and doesn't make me look like a whale." Then she turns to Alyssa and Kate. "Hey girls. Where's Michael?"

"He's running late," Alyssa answers. "I swear, the guy's worse than me for running late."

"Trust me, honey, they all are," Elliot quips.

"Hey, I've been ready for twenty minutes!"

"Are you sure you're okay for me to go?" Elliot asks, ignoring my comment.

"Yes, Aunt Elliot, I'm fine," Alyssa says.

"Okay then," Elliot smiles. "I've left twenty bucks on the kitchen counter for you if you want to order a pizza or something. There's a whole bunch of DVDs you can watch if you want. Just have fun. Chill out. And if you need something, just call, okay?"

Alyssa rolls her eyes but laughs. "Okay. But seriously, I'll be fine."

"Yeah, and even if she isn't," Kate pipes up, "there's booze in here, right?"

Elliot shakes her head disapproving. "Kate," she scolds. Then she fake coughs. "Bottom right hand cupboard."

"What a fantastic role model," I sarcastically say.

"Shut up," Elliot retorts, before turning to face me. "So, we ready to go?"

"I think we are," I say, as I put my jacket on. "See you girls later."

As we head out of the door, Elliot turns and waves bye. Further along the hall at the elevator and out of earshot, Elliot sighs, and says, "Do you think she'll be okay?

I put an arm around Elliot's shoulders and kiss the top of her head. "I think she'll be fine," I reassuringly say as the elevator doors slide open.

* * *

I have to say, it's good just to get out of the house and away from all the drama for a little while. It's good to focus on something else. And I'm glad that Elliot has relaxed a bit. She knows that Alyssa is with her friends and if anything is wrong, Alyssa will call her. Just now we're both focusing on why Turk and Carla invited us out for dinner tonight.

"So what do you think it is they want to tell us?" Elliot excitedly asks me, as we talk hand in hand towards the restaurant, which is just a few feet away. "I have no idea."

"I still think there's a minute chance that they're going to tell us they're pregnant again."

Elliot shakes her head. "Nah. Carla would never have been able to keep that a secret for as long as this, even with everything else that was happening," she says. "Maybe they've eventually bought a house."

"What if they've bought a house away from here?" I seriously ask. "What if they're going to move far away?"

"They wouldn't," Elliot says, her eyebrows furrowed. "They wouldn't… would they?"

"I hope not."

By this point, we're at the restaurant door.

"Well, here goes," I say.

As we walk in to the restaurant, we're immediately whacked by the smell of food.

"Even if they devastate us tonight," Elliot says, "at least we'll have eaten well."

It doesn't take long for us to find Carla and Turk at the table. After the greetings are exchanged and orders placed (the service here is very good), Carla begins speaking.

"How is Alyssa doing today?"

"She's a bit better today. She's been quite upset, but she's coping better than she has been since we got back. And she's talking about what's going on, which is better," Elliot answers.

"That's good then," Carla says.

Then silence befalls us. Turk and Carla glance at each other. And again. And –

"Oh my god, will you just tell us what's going on!" Elliot quickly says. "Please, because it's been driving us insane."

Carla starts laughing. "Okay then. Well… we have something we want to tell you."

"Please god tell us that you're not moving hundreds of miles away to a dream house with a pool and a unicorn!"

"What?" The other three at the table say at the same time.

"Never mind," I sheepishly respond.

"No," Turk says. "Izzy's Christening is in a couple of months and we want you two to be Izzy's godparents."

"Say what now?" I ask.

"We want you and Elliot to be Izzy's godparents," Carla repeats. "So… would you like to be Izzy's godparents? It would mean the world to us and Izzy if you were."

"Oh my god," Elliot says. "Of course we will!" Elliot stands up and goes to hug Carla and Turk.

"We're honoured that you would ask us," I add. Wow. "Of course we'll be Mocha Cub's godparents."

"Thank god," Turk says. "Because we had nobody else we wanted to ask."

"We'd be so honoured to be Izzy's godparents," Elliot says as she sits back down.

At this point, the waiter brings our drinks over.

"Oh, I forgot I ordered orange juice," Elliot mutters.

"How about a toast?" I say, raising my glass, as Elliot, Turk and Carla follow. "To Izzy's Christening," I happily say.

"And," Carla adds, "To her godparents."

"Cheers." All the glasses clink together.

* * *

"I can't believe they want us to be Izzy's godparents," Elliot says again as we step out of the elevator on her floor. "It's unbelievable."

"Just that they would trust us enough to make us Izzy's godparents is incredible… and somehow makes me question their sanity."

Elliot giggles. "JD?"

"Yeah?"

"Out of everybody in the world, who would you trust with our baby?" Elliot tentatively asks.

It doesn't take me long to think. "Turk and Carla. No question. You?"

"Turk and Carla," Elliot smiles, as she opens the front door to her apartment.

When I walk in I notice that the TV is on. I can see Kate's head and Michael's head, but there's no sign of Alyssa.

"Hey kids," Elliot says as she walks further into the living room. "Where's Alyssa?" she asks.

"Physically she's here," Kate replies, "but god only knows where her head's at."

"What?" Elliot asks, walking around to the other side of the couch. I do the same.

Alyssa is lying across the sofa, feet pulled up, and with her head resting on Michael's shoulder.

"Yeah, she conked out about five minutes into the first episode of the _Friends_ marathon," Michael explains. "And that was about… three hours ago."

"Makes sense," I say. "The girl's been awake for a week."

Elliot seems to be thinking about something. "JD, could you please get me the purple throw from on Alyssa's bed."

"Are you just going to leave her sleeping on the sofa?" I ask.

"She's hasn't slept for a week; I don't want to wake her up now."

By the time I return to the living room with the blanket in my hand, they've somehow managed to get Alyssa off of Michael's shoulder and fully lying on the sofa without waking her up. Impressive. Elliot takes the blanket from me and puts it over Alyssa.

At this point, Alyssa's friends start to walk towards the door. "Tell Alyssa we'll see her later," Kate says.

"Will do. Listen kids, thanks for coming over tonight. I think Alyssa really needed it."

"It's no problem," Michael responds.

Once the teenagers leave, I walk into the kitchen, where Elliot has gone to pour herself a glass of water.

"You know, I think Alyssa might just be okay," she says quietly.


	23. My Debate

**_AN: _First off, I have to apologise for the ridiculous time it has taken me to update. In two words: Exams suck. I had absolutely no time to write at any point in the last two months. But my schedule is completely clear from now until September, so I'm planning to actually get this story completed this summer. Wish me luck. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter. Thannks for all of your previous reviews. :)**

**Oh, and to the reviewer who asked if Sammy exists in this story (I can't remember what your name was, I'm sorry): No, he doesn't.**

_

* * *

_

_Six weeks on…_

Getting ready for another day at Sacred Heart.

Elliot is now twenty weeks pregnant. It's scary to think that we're now half way through this pregnancy. Not a bad scary, though. More of a 'where did the time go?' thing. At first, we were so terrified and freaked out about having this baby, but now… we wouldn't have it any other way.

As I put a few things in my back pack for today (a bottle of water, a note pad and an apple), I hear Elliot's footsteps exit the bedroom and walk into the living room. "Ready to go?" She asks.

"Yeah," I respond. I then turn around and notice that something about her appearance is different. "Hey, when did you decide to switch to wearing scrubs for work?"

Elliot smiles slightly, running her hand down the blue material and over her ever more noticeable pregnancy bump. "Yesterday after work when I realised that the high heels and smart outfits just weren't worth the pain or discomfort. I forgot how comfortable sneakers were," she sighs.

"Speaking of which, when did you buy those?" I vaguely recognise them, but I also remember that Elliot said a while she cleared out all of the – as she put it – old crap that she had lying about her wardrobe, which included her old pairs of sneakers.

Glancing to either side of herself, Elliot whispers. "I didn't. I stole, I mean, _borrowed_ them from Alyssa. Don't tell her."

"You stole sneakers from your niece?"

"Only for a couple of days until I get a chance to go shopping," Elliot replies. "She hardly wears them anyway; she'll never notice they're gone."

A second or two later, Alyssa walks into the living room, clad in black school trousers and a grey hoodie that has her school's logo (the Pope's hat – Catholic school, you know the drill) and the word 'Leavers' printed on it. "Morning," she says. "Hey, this is going to seem like a weird question, but have either of you seen my sneakers?"

Elliot quickly glances to me as if to say 'Shh'. "Uh, I don't think I've seen them," she lies.

"Damn," Alyssa frowns. "Maybe I left them in PE last week."

"You don't need them today, do you?" Her voice obviously catches. She's not the best liar in the world.

"No. I just could've sworn they were in my room and now they're not there. Never mind, I'll just check in PE today," she sighs. "Okay, I have to go. See ya."

"Bye," Elliot and I both say.

As Alyssa walks out of the apartment, I shoot Elliot a look.

"Oh shut up," she says, once the door has closed.

* * *

As surprising as it might be, since the Christmas break, I have really been enjoying school. Everybody has been in a better mood than they were last term. I think it's because now that we're into the final few months, we're all now trying to make the most of the time we have left. It's really weird; it's February- nearly March now – and we leave school in May. And I know I've only been at St Catherine's for less than a year, but so much has happened since I've been that it feels as if I've never been anywhere else.

Kate walks into the common room, carrying lunch on a tray. She sits down next to me, before passing a Panini to me. You see, we have this agreement. We take in alternate days to buy lunch to save both of us having to stand in the queues, which are just ridiculous.

"Hey Lys," Kate says. "Find your sneakers yet?"

"No. I checked in PE, which is the only place I could have left them, and they're not there."

"That sucks," frowns Kate.

All of the seniors have been asked to attend a meeting in our common room. There's more charity fundraising things going on and I suppose they want to run something by us.

Claire Branning – the head of the charities committee – starts speaking. "Hey. Thanks for coming. We're hoping to run a guess the baby photo competition to raise some money. Basically, we get baby photos of you people and the rest of you have to guess who everybody else is. Long story short, we want you all to bring in a baby photo of yourself. Is that cool?"

There's a general chorus of 'Yeah' and 'Oh, that sounds funny' from around the room.

"Uh, yeah sure," I also enthusiastically say. "When do the photos have to be in for?"

"Just as soon as," Claire replies. "We're hoping to get all the photos by the end of the week if possible."

Hmm. A week to find a decent baby photo of me. This is going to be fun….

* * *

As usual, Sacred Heart is a constant buzz of activity. It's great just to get a five-minute break to talk to friends, even if you have to fill a chart in at the same time.

"So, is there any progress on when Izzy's Christening will be?" I ask Carla, who is standing on the other side of the nurses' station looking for… something.

"Yeah we're hoping for the end of April at either Holy Trinity or the chapel here," she answers.

A thought occurs to me. "Doesn't the priest at Holy Trinity look like Captain Solo?"

Carla's shoulders visibly slump and she exhales loudly. "Yes."

"Oh please get Izzy christened at Trinity! _Please_ get Mocha Cub christened by Solo!"

If I wasn't such a nerd and wanted Izzy to be christened by a Star Trek character, I'd have some sympathy for Carla. "Mi dios," she mutters, rolling her eyes and shaking her head.

Silence falls between Carla and I as we concentrate on our tasks. It's one of those concentrations where you're so immersed in what you're doing and you forget where –

"Hey guys!"

The enthusiastic voice started both Carla and me. I turn around and Elliot is looking at the two of us like we're crazy.

"Uh… what?"

"You scared the crap out of us!" Carla answers. "We didn't hear you coming without your heels on."

Raising an eyebrow, Elliot says. "Fair enough. Do you guys, by any chance, know what the deal is with my patient, Mr Mayfair?"

Carla and I both shake our heads 'no'.

Out of nowhere, Dr Cox appears at the nurses' station. "Barbie –"

It's been a while since that nickname was used.

"Your patient Mr Mayfair is in fact Dr Mayfair," Dr Cox explains. "He is a private practice doctor, which by default means that he is an arrogant, money-loving, patient-hating, selfish, uncaring bastard."

"That's a bit harsh."

Dr Cox raises a sarcastic eyebrow. "Newbie, you have been partaking in what can only be described as the obsessive _stalking _of for the past six years. How is it you don't know my innate disdain for private practice jerks?"

"I was asking if any of you had treated him before," Elliot answers, switching back to the original topic.

"No, and you know why, Barbie?"

Elliot sighs reluctantly. "Why?"

"Because they are control freak snobs, Barbie. They only let their own private practice idiots treat them."

"Whatever." Elliot's eyes roll. "But David –"

Dr Cox scoffs. "David? Since when were you on first name terms with the enemy?"

"He _told_ me to," Elliot responds, her tone stern. "Anyway, Dr Mayfair isn't like that. We had a really nice chat before I came over here to talk to JD and Carla."

"Trust me, Barbie, they're all the same. Give it a while, you'll see."

"Anyway… I completely forgot what I came over here to say…" Elliot trails off. Her eyebrows lower as she tries to think hard about what she was going to say. "Nope, it's completely gone. Damn it. That's like the millionth time that's happened."

"Has Kelso been at you for your maternity leave dates yet?" Carla questions Elliot.

"Yeah," Elliot sighs. "I just can't decide."

"Well, I suppose it's a case of thinking how long you'll be able to work for and how much time you want at home with the baby after it's born."

"No, that's not –" Elliot's thought, whatever it was, is interrupted by that annoying beep of a pager. "Gotta go."

"Dorian."

I turn around and see Dr Zelter – one of the other internal medicine attendings – walking towards me.

"Do you still want me to take your hours this afternoon?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Carla's eyes narrowing in the way they do when she's eavesdropping. Damn.

"Uh, yeah. Thanks. And I'll cover for you next week so you can go and do whatever the hell you like."

"Score." Dr Zelter then walks away.

And once again, I turn to face the other direction and Carla is still looking at me with that quizzical expression.

"Why is Zelter covering your shift this afternoon?"

"No reason."

Carla's eyes narrow even further, but instead of her eyes being inquiring like they were before, they're now filled with annoyance at being lied to. She's good, Carla is, a lie never gets past her.

"You're up to something."

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are. And you better tell me what it is, or else I will hurt you."

"Threatening violence, seriously? And no, I can't tell you because you can't keep a secret. You're the world's biggest gossip."

Carla smirks. "So there _is_ something going on."

"Damn." I sigh. "Fine. There is something going on, but I am _not_ telling you."

"Yeah you are."

"No I'm not."

"Yeah you are or as well as me hurting you, I'll tell Turk that you're the one who lost his autographed Michael Jordan basketball and he'll hurt ya too."

I'm taken aback for a second. "I didn't lose his basketball."

"I know you didn't. I did" Carla admits. "But who's he gonna believe, me or you? Bare in mind, I do give him sex."

"You win," I reluctantly sigh. "Fine, I'll tell you, since I could probably use your help anyway. But you have to promise not to breathe a _word_ of this to anyone. Not to Dr Cox, not even to Turk and _especially _not to Elliot. You got it?"

Carla looks nervous. "I got it, just tell me what's going on."

"Okay, so…"

* * *

I love having a free period at the end of the day. It's fantastic. Thanks to that, I can leave school and go home early. Okay, so it means that I have a lot further to walk rather than get the school bus home, but put it this way: An hour stuck at school doing not very much in the study room, or a half hour walk home in the sun? See.

Anyway, I'm nearly home now. Sigh. I guess I need to look for a photo of me by the end of the week. The question is where am I going to find a photo. Maybe Aunt Elliot has a stash of old photos somewhere. I'll ask. Although I don't think anyone'll be home yet. It's only 3.15.

Although, it looks like I'm wrong. The front door is unlocked. Unless… somebody left it unlocked this morning. That wouldn't have been good. I wonder if anything is still left in the house.

Once I'm into the house and see that everything is still where it should be (Phew.), I just hear a phone call. And the little spy in me (everyone has one, don't you think?) makes me stay by the door and listen to what's being said.

"So I can visit at any time?" JD says on the phone. "That's great, thanks."

I then walk further into the apartment. "Hey."

"Crap," JD mutters quickly. "How much of that did you hear?"

O…kay. "Only the part where you asked when you could visit. What are you visiting?"

"A patient," he unconvincingly responds. "I'm visiting an old patient."

"Right." Because he's totally _not_ lying. Part of me wants to ask a bit more, but at the same time, I don't. It's strange.

"Aren't you home early?"

"I could say the same about you. Seriously, aren't you supposed to be working?"

"Yeah, but Zelter asked to if he could take a few of my hours. He needs to leave early next week. It's his kid's school play."

"Okay." It's so obvious I don't believe him, but I don't care. "You wouldn't happen to know if there, like, a box of old family photos anywhere in here, would you?"

"Can't help you. Sorry." JD then starts to walk towards the door. "I'm going to go visits my old patient." JD leaves.

That was… strange, to say the least.

* * *

_"Hello?"_

"Hey Carla, it's me. I just went over to see it and I love it. Could you maybe go over and give me a second opinion?"

_"Sure. But am I really the person you should be asking?"_

"I've got it covered, okay. Could you just?"

"_Yeah, I'll go tonight."_

"Thank you. Tell me what you think tomorrow, okay? Bye."

* * *

Elliot is checking over Dr Mayfair, so this is the best chance I've got of speaking to Carla, who luckily is walking quickly towards me.

"So?"

Carla nods. "I approve. But seriously, shouldn't you –"

"Shh!" I say (really?), when I notice Elliot walking out of Dr Mayfair's room. Followed by Dr Cox. That's weird. Elliot does not seem happy at all, but Dr Cox seems to be grinning wickedly. As Dr Cox walks off down the corridor away from us, still grinning, Elliot stands beside Carla and me.

"I will _kill _him," she states.

Carla looks at her sympathetically. "What's he doing?"

"Every damn thing I said to Dr Mayfair he was trying to correct me on. Every fricking thing. Oh, and Dr Mayfair was talking about his practice – which sounds amazing, by the way – and everything he said Dr Cox was contradicting him on. It was pissing me off."

"Why was Dr Cox even there anyway?"

"You tell me," Elliot snaps. "God, it's like being an intern again. He hasn't tortured me like this in years. I am so angry right now, I can't believe it. You know what, I'm going to go and get a glass of water and cool off before I see the next patient because I have to place and IV and I don't think Mrs Harris will be all too happy if I stab her with it," Elliot vents. "I'll be back in five."

Once Elliot is out of earshot, I speak to Carla. "So, uh, when do you think I should tell her?"

Carla shakes her head. "Definitely _not_ today."

* * *

I wish I'd never agreed to do this photos thing. It's turning out to be more hassle than it's worth. I've just looked through one box of old photos my aunt gave me and I'm now just about to look through the other box.

You know what's beginning to really annoy me? I've been around every department in the school looking for my sneakers and they are not there. I even went to art to see if they were there, which was entirely redundant because _I don't do art!_ It was worth a try. I've even had Kate go around to the dancing studio and look. I would have gone myself, but Kate lives two blocks away from it and I would have had to get the bus. And plus, she offered. Guess what? No luck. They're not there. I'm at a loss.

Oh, there's an envelop inside this box, maybe there's something in there.

So if the shoes aren't anywhere in school, and they're not at dancing… did I leave them at Michael's? I could've, I suppose. But I can't think of any reason why I would have taken them up there in the first place.

Unless… I did leave them at school and, instead of taking them to lost and found, someone has just flat out stolen them. I hate people some times.

Um… I didn't realise what this envelope was before I opened it. It's old photos my dad sent me before… you know. I forgot that I gave these to Aunt Elliot to put away somewhere because I didn't want to keep them. I completely forgot about these until now.

The funny thing is I don't particularly want to look at them, but at the same time I can't help it. There are photos of me when I was younger, me with my dad, me with my mom.

Further into the envelope, I notice that there's a piece of paper. I take it out and read it.

_15 Maple Road, Woodside._

Right.

* * *

Back in Sacred Heart, yet again. Every day is different, but it's similar in that every day is busy and sometimes you can't catch a break, which can be difficult when somebody wants to talk to you. Sometimes you've just got to multi-task.

To the right of where I stand, filling in some charts quickly, Carla quickly walks up to collect something. "So did you do it?"

"Yep," I answer.

"So how does it feel?"

"It's uh… It's scary."

Carla looks around me. "Heads up," she quickly mutters. "Hey. You look like you're in a better mood."

"Yeah, well, I didn't throw up this morning, Coffee Bucks had one white chocolate chip muffin left, it's 1.30 in the afternoon and I haven't seen Dr Cox yet, and now I get to get Dr Mayfair he's being discharged. Oh, and I can prove Dr Cox wrong – finally – because Dr Mayfair has not once brought one of his other private practice friends in to treat him." Elliot happily sighs. "It's a good day." She walks away and into Dr Mayfair's room.

"So seriously, _when_ are you going to tell her?" Carla asks. But before I get a chance to answer, you'll never guess who decides to make an appearance.

"Is Barbie in there?" Dr Cox asks.

"Yeah, she is," Carla answers. "And you won't be."

"Relax, would ya?" Dr Cox snarls. "I'm just checking something about a patient she treated. Gimme a break," he mutters, heading towards the room.

"Do you believe him?" I question Carla.

"Probably not," she frankly answers. "So, how do you think she'll take it then?"

"I have no idea. Probably one of three ways. She'll either be really happy, too shocked to speak, or she'll club me over the head with something."

"Oh, I'd like to see that one!" Carla jokes. "Heads up, Dr Cox is leaving."

Behind me, I can hear Dr Cox's footstep, and he's clapping his hands. "That was fun!"

I glance to Carla. "That can't be good."

"Yeah, I'd go check."

Once I get to the door of Dr Mayfair's room, I knock gently on it. Elliot turns around swiftly and it's immediately obvious that she's pissed off. Her face softens slightly, and she nods me in.

"What did Dr Cox do this time?"

Elliot angrily sighs. "Oh well, did he not just try to scare me by screaming in ear every time I tried to talk. If he's doing his weird thing where he has an inherent need to torture somebody, couldn't he torture somebody else? I hate that guy, I swear."

"Which is exactly why you should come work at my practice," Dr Mayfair says.

"Excuse me?"

Elliot rolls her eyes. "Dr Mayfair thinks it's funny to try to convince me to join his practice when he has no real intention of ever offering me a job. That's not very nice, you know."

"No it would not," Dr Mayfair responds. "Just as well I'm not kidding."

What?

"What?" Elliot says.

"I'm offering you a job at my practice. You'll earn double the money you make here and you could still work between here and the practice. The difference is, you won't have to answer that jackass."

"As lucrative as that offer sounds," Elliot sighs, "I'm going to have to pass."

"Mind if I ask why?"

Elliot looks a bit nervous. She glances at me first. "Because… I think I'm going to be leaving medicine. In four months."

"Say what now?"

Turning around to face me, Elliot says, "Can we talk about this later?" she asks me. "I'll be out in a few minutes, okay?" She closes the door behind me.

Carla is still, for some reason, standing at the nurses' station, so I walk over to her.

"Did you know that Elliot was planning on leaving medicine when the baby was born?"

"No. Really?"

"Apparently so."

Before the conversation in continued any further, Dr Cox storms by. This time he's not looking smug or gleeful, but stern; prepared for action. "RTA," he says. "Three being transferred up here from the ER. You're up," Dr Cox whistles.

Oh joy.

* * *

Sometimes, because the study room can get quite busy, we have to go to the library to study, which is where I am. I could be in the study room though; today isn't one of the busy days.

I keep the little the piece of paper that has my dad's address on it in my hand, and the envelope with the photos sits on the table while I stare into space.

"Hey."

Michael sits down next to me, snapping me back to attention.

"Hey," I respond. "Could you do me a favour and pick one of these photos for me to hand in. I can't decide." I slide the envelope over the table.

"Sure." A second later, Michael asks, "You alright? You seem really… quiet."

"I'm fine; I'm just thinking," I answer. "I found this yesterday."

"Is that your dad's address?" He asks, looking at the piece of paper.

"Yeah. And I'm thinking… am I doing the right thing here? Not speaking to him? Because I know he's a total jackass and I hate him for that but… what if… what if he dies and I never really made any kind of peace with him and I hate myself forever for it? It's not like I'd be able to go back in time and make things right, y'know?"

"Yeah, I know," Michael takes one of my hands. "But you've still got to think about the reason you don't speak to him in the first place. Because none of that changes, and you shouldn't feel obligated to start speaking to him again, just because."

"I know and I don't. But," I pause, thinking, "it's me that has to live with everything that's happened, not him. I've been thinking about this a lot, and it's hard enough to look back at it all now without trying in a few years and it's so much worse because there's nothing at all that can be done to make anything better and I don't know I could cope with that. But at the same time I don't want to disappoint anyone…" I trail off.

After a moment of silence, Michael asks, "How come you haven't spoken about this before?"

"I didn't want to. Every time I thought about maybe speaking to my dad, I just reminded myself of everything that had happened, and that seemed to work for like… two weeks. I thought maybe if I didn't talk about it with anyone it would go away but it hasn't. And I think the only thing I can do is try to make peace. But on my terms, and not because it'll make him feel better but because it'll help me move on." I sigh heavily. "Do you think that'll be okay with everyone?"

"It's not really got anything to do with everyone," Michael says. "Would that be okay with you?"

I simply nod.

"Then it would have to be okay with everyone. Alright?"

"Yeah. Thanks," I smile. "By the way, did you pick a photo?"

"Yeah, I think you should go with this one of you with the really curly, almost white blonde hair and the multi coloured shirt on, because that's entertainment."

I roll my eyes. "Okay, one: I did not choose my outfits when I was two years old. Two: Are you kidding?"

"No, you're really cute in that photo. And plus, you should see my photo. My parents thought it would be cute to dress me in a fluorescent green t-shirt and bright blue pants."

I laugh. "That's nasty."

"So do you wanna head down to the dining room and get a table and some food before those annoying 7th graders steal everything?"

"Yeah," I say, standing up.

* * *

As much as talking things through with Michael helped, I need a second opinion.

"Aunt Elliot?" I say nervously as I step into the living room. "Would you be angry or disappointed in me if I… started speaking to my dad again? Because I've been thinking and I know that I'll never be able to forgive everything. But years from now I don't want to beat myself up because I didn't reconcile things with my dad when I had the chance. But I don't want it to seem like everything's okay just because… well, you know."

It's at this point that I realise I've been bouncing on the balls of my feet and I've been nervously clutching at the bottom of my sweater.

"Honey," my aunt frowns at me. It's not a disapproving frown or anything… it's I don't know. "God, of course I wouldn't be angry or disappointed if you wanted to have contact with your dad again. How could I be?"

"It's just that… you've taken such good care of me since I got here and you didn't need to… and I feel like I really owe you…. and your opinion really means a lot to me… and you're so angry at my dad and…"

"Listen honey, sit down."

I go and take a seat on the couch.

"Look, it doesn't matter how pissed off I am with Brian, because that's irrelevant. He's your dad before anything else, and if you want to speak with him, that's entirely up to you. Everything's up to you, and whatever my opinion about your dad is shouldn't affect that. And do you want to know the real truth?"

"Yeah?"

"I always expected you to start speaking to your dad again. I was just waiting for it."

There's a silence.

"Do you think I'm doing the right thing, talking to my dad again?"

"If it helps you sleep at night then you're doing the right thing."

"Right." Okay then. I stand up. "Um… there are a few people going over to Kate's house to do some Chemistry revision. Can I go?"

"Of course."

I walk towards my bedroom door, before I turn again. "Aunt Elliot," I say. "Thank you."

"Anytime, honey."

"Oh, and by the way, can I have my sneakers back?"

* * *

Car accident victims can be one of the worst things to some into the ICU, mostly because the patients can often be very unstable which means anything can go wrong at any minute. But luckily, this time… well, put it this way it hasn't been the worst it could have been. However, it did mean that I didn't get a chance to speak to Elliot during the day and I'm also two hours late home.

When I walk into the apartment, I notice that the TV is on. A TiVoed episode of _Grey's Anatomy_ is showing, and I can just see the fluffy slipper socks that cover Elliot's feet hanging over the arm of the sofa.

"Hey," I say softly.

"Hey," she replies, as she runs an absent minded hand over the bump. "You know, she's walking about the hospital talking to a dead guy and they all see it, yet none of them do anything about it. Are they idiots?"

"Yeah. How the hell do they get away with all their crap?" I ask as I sit down on the couch, Elliot having moved her legs so I can get a space. "If that were real they would all have had their asses _fired_ by now."

"Damn right," Elliot says, as she puts her legs back to where they originally were, like a pyjamaed seatbelt over me.

"About earlier," I begin.

"I'm sorry, okay," Elliot interrupts me. "I should have spoken about it with you beforehand. I just… I didn't expect him to offer me a job like that and I really didn't know what else to say. Because before…. I wouldn't have even hesitated. I would have snapped his hand off. But now, everything's so different and it's not just me I've got to think about. I should've spoken to you earlier, I'm sorry."

" And I'm sorry I was such an ass. It was just a bit of a shock because I thought you loved medicine."

"I do. But I love the baby more. And I'd much rather be at home looking after the baby myself than be working every day and having a nanny look after them day in, day out."

"Turk and Carla have a nanny for Izzy, and they seem to do fine."

"I know," Elliot sighs. "And that's fine for them. But it's not what I want for our child. I've been putting extra money away in my savings accounts, and I've been cutting back on things I don't need to buy and I've worked it all out financially and we could afford it. I mean, it'll be a bit tighter than we're used to, but we could manage."

"How long have you been thinking about this?"

"Pretty much since I found out I was pregnant," Elliot answers. "But then with what happened in Connecticut at Christmas and being with my family… it just made me think some more. I don't want out family to end up as screwed up as mine is. Which bit probably will, but at least I can't blame it on a nanny. I was going to tell you, I just never got the right moment."

"Wow. You know what, whatever you want to do is completely fine with me," I honestly respond. "I just wish you'd told me a bit sooner. You know, before I put a deposit down on a house."

"I'm sorry about – wait, what?"

"I, um, sort of put a deposit down on a house."

Elliot's eyes go wide, and she sits up sharply. "Again. _What?"_

I reach down to my open backpack, which sits at the foot of the couch, and pull out the folder that has all the information in it and hand it to Elliot, who opens it hurriedly and starts looking at everything.

"It's not quite finished yet, and we can't move in for a few months yet, but I've seen the show home and honestly, it's amazing. There's loads of space, a big garden, four bedrooms, so there's one for us, a nursery, a room that Alyssa can stay in when she visits from college and even a spare room for whatever."

"Oh my god," Elliot mutters.

"We could go and see it tomorrow after work if you'd like? But I know you'll love it."

"Yeah," Elliot answers, still reeling from shock. "I can't believe you did this." Then her face falls. "But… if I'm not working, how can we afford this?"

"I never told you this, but I've been saving money for years too. We'll manage, trust me."

"Oh my… I can't believe you did this," Elliot mutters again. She leans forward as far as she can, which is getting to be more of a struggle the bigger the bump gets.

I lean in too, and quickly our lips meet. Once the kiss is over, Elliot sighs and leans back so she's lying down again.

"Holy crap," she says, quite suddenly.

"What?"

"We're really growing up."

* * *

I was going to go to the study group, I swear to God. But I was walking and thinking and then I decided there was something else I had to do.

Since I don't really know this neighbourhood, it took me a while to find this place. But now I'm here waiting for the door to be answered. I can hear movement on the other side, and the door starts to open. Okay, here goes.

"Hi, Dad."


	24. My Brother

**AN: _Hey! Thanks for all the reviews, guys! I really appreciate them!_**

**_Okay, so you guys all remember the Dan/Elliot storyline of season four? Yeah? Well, in the universe of this story, that _NEVER_ happened. There's one main reason for it: I hated that storyline. With a passion. That's why I've chosen to ignore it completely. I just really couldn't stand it._**

**_Regardless, I hope you like this chapter! :)_**

* * *

"I know it's only the third time we've been down there and it's really just an empty shell that we still need to wear hard hats in," Elliot says, as she shuffles into the apartment, carrying a couple of bags, "but I _love_ the new house. I really do."

"Told ya you would. And now we have a time for moving."

After going down to the new house, Elliot and I went food shopping. Or at least that was the original plan. We spent more time stopping off other places to look at things that we could put in the new house.

"Yep. In twelve weeks it's out of here and into our house."

I happily sigh. "Twelve weeks… which takes us to…"

Elliot's eyes move from side to side as she does the math in her head. "Three weeks before the baby's due. Okay, not a great time to be moving house, but what the hell."

In the space of just a few weeks, it seems like so much has moved on. I bought us a house. That's pretty self-explanatory. Elliot handed her notice in to Kelso saying that she would be leaving Sacred Heart and medicine end of May (this is March), to which he was not too pleased. But who cares. And, Alyssa started speaking to her dad again. I'm sure Elliot would agree with me when I say that despite everything, Alyssa seems more relaxed and happier within herself now. Even though she didn't say it, you could always tell that something was bothering her, and it seems to have eased now that she's speaking with her dad again. Things move along so quickly.

"Did you ever think we'd be here?" I ask Elliot. "Buying a house together and having a baby?"

"Honestly?" Elliot says, raising an eyebrow. "Honestly no. But I wouldn't have it any other way." As she unpacks the shopping, Elliot glances around the room. "You know there's a lot of crap in this apartment I should really get rid of before moving.

"I know what you mean. There are so many things I have that I can't remember where I got them or why I have them."

I'm walking out of the kitchen when my cell phone starts ringing. I take it out of my pocket and notice that it is my voicemail calling. When did someone call me? I answer.

"_You have one new message."_

The next voice is one I recognise. All too well.

"_Hey, Little Brother."_

That's right. It's Dan.

"By the by, my buddy Scott told me about this awesome poker tournament that was happening down your way so I decided to drive down there. Thought I could maybe win a good buck. Maybe a beautiful woman. And then I remembered I don't know how to play poker. But I'm already most of the way down there. Anyhoo, long story short: I'll be at Sacred Heart tomorrow morning. Toodles!"

I walk back into the kitchen slowly. "We have a problem."

Elliot looks at me wordlessly.

"Dan is coming to town this weekend, and he doesn't know anything."

"Nothing?"

"Not. A. Thing."

Elliot nods. "This should be fun then."

* * *

It's been a little over three weeks since I started speaking to my dad again. I'm really glad I did it and I'm glad we're speaking now. But I have to say, that first re-meeting was weird…

**Alyssa walks through to her dad's living room, obviously still nervous. She tightly clutches at the sleeves of her sweater. She looks around the room and sees that it is plainly decorated. But what is most noticeable is the amount of photos of her younger self that are displayed around the room. Some she recognises, some she doesn't. **

**Brian Reid walks through from the kitchen a minute or two later, carrying two glasses of juice. The one her gives to his daughter is apple and blackcurrant, which he knows is her favourite. At least it was when she was little.**

**Taking the glass of juice, Alyssa says, "Thanks."**

**There's an awkward silence in the room as each person sips at their juice, an action that is meant to stay off the speaking a little longer, because neither really knows what to say.**

**Alyssa clears the throat. "We had this team building day for seniors the other day. It was really pointless but I've never laughed so much in the space of seven hours ever."**

"**Yeah?"**

**  
"Yeah. It was so funny. I was in a group with Kate and Michael and at one point, we had to compete against the other teams to build the tallest tower possible out of just paper and cellotape."**

"**I remember doing something like that at school." Brian smiles. "How did it go?"**

"**Not well. We managed to get it over the height of Kate, but literally ten seconds before it was going to be judged, the whole damn thing collapsed!"**

"**Typical, huh?"**

**  
"Yeah. So instead, we just started making paper airplanes and throwing them at other teams. Oh, and later on we had to do weird dance thing. One group ran to the drama department, stole cowboy hats and then did a dance to Hillbilly Rock, Hillbilly Roll. Funniest thing you will ever see. Somebody recorded it and put it on Facebook." **

"**What did you guys do?"**

"**Our dance was lame," Alyssa rolls her eyes. "Honestly, we tried doing an original version of YMCA. Epic fail."**

**For another two hours the conversation continues like that – nothing of great importance is ever spoken off.**

**Alyssa has to leave at 8.30. Brian follows her to the door. **

"**This was fun," Alyssa says.**

"**It was. And you're welcome over anytime."**

**Alyssa nods. "I guess I'll see you later then." She walks towards the door but pauses, before turning back and hugging her dad. "I missed you, Dad."**

**Brian hugs her back. "I missed you too, honey."**

We still haven't spoken about anything. Like, why he thought it was a good idea not to tell me what was going on or why he never seemed to have any time for me when I was a kid or why he and my mom divorced. In fact, neither of us has even acknowledged the fact that we were ever not talking. Because we're talking now, which is the important thing.

At school, if we're ever going to be handed anything out, Friday morning registration is traditionally when it'll be handed out. This morning it was report cards. Everybody was opening them in registration, even though the envelopes are addressed are always addressed to parents. Or, in my case, my aunt. She is my main carer, after all. And on top of the opening them ourselves ritual, we also have the tradition of our friends reading them too. Right now, Kate is reading mine.

"Hey, do you think if I went downstairs and asked the office staff really nicely, they'd maybe print off another report for me?"

"Probably," Kate answers. "They give some people two if their parents are divorced. Why?"

"Well, because it's a good report –"

"Good report," Kate scoffs. "English: A. Maths: A. Chemistry: A+. Biology A+. Spanish: A+. Although that's hardly surprising given that it's your second language. Physics –"

"Yeah I get it. The point is, of course I want my aunt to get the report. But I think it'd be nice if my dad could get one too because I'd really like him to see how I'm getting on. So do you think the office would give me another one?"

"I think they probably would. And if not, just bribe them with chocolate biscuits."

"Have you done that before?"

"Lys," Kate says, "everybody's done that before. By the way, have you heard anything back from colleges?"

"No," I sadly sigh. "You?"

"No. This wait is frustrating."

"Yup. Kay, I'm going to the office. Wish me luck."

"Oreos," Kate answers, as I'm leaving the study room. "The office staff loves Oreos."

* * *

On Saturday morning, Elliot and I go into work half an hour early. We're sitting at a table in the cafeteria.

Within a minute of us sitting down, Turk and Carla burst into the cafeteria.

"Seriously guys, what's the crisis meeting for?" Carla asks for the both of them as they sit down.

"Dan's coming to town," I respond. "This morning. And he doesn't know anything that has happened re: me and Elliot."

"Yeah, and we would like to keep it that way until we're out of the hospital," Elliot continues.

"So, if you see Dan at any point today, could you not tell him where either of us are? And if he's heading in any direction that we are, could you please page us and warn us?"

Carla shakes her head in disbelief. "God, you two are annoying sometimes."

"Yeah, we know, but will you just do this for us?"

"Fine," Turk answers. "I just don't get what the problem is."

"Because he's Dan: My annoying loser brother who tends bar for a living and still lives in my mom's attic." I answer. "Plus, he'll be pissed that in the few times I've spoken to him in the past eight months I've never told him that Elliot and I are together and that we're having a kid."

"Which reminds me," Carla pipes up, looking at Elliot, "when exactly are you planning on telling your family?"

Elliot blinks. "I gotta go."

Once Elliot is out of the cafeteria, Turk turns to Carla. "Ten bucks says that her family find out by showing up unexpectedly and she answers the door with a kid in her arms."

"Can I take that bet?"

Turk and Carla turn their heads suddenly, and look at me.

"What?"

* * *

In addition to the help of Turk and Carla in our plans, Elliot and I have decided if we are going to make the plan work, it would be best if we don't spend any time together in the hospital. That way, if Dan sees either of us at any point (knock on wood), he wouldn't necessarily put two and two together.

As it happens, I'm glancing out of the window of the doctor's lounge when I notice a car pulling into a parking spot in front of the hospital, right next to my car. I don't recognise the car or the make, but it looks pretty high-end. The person who steps out of the car, however, I do recognise.

The person walks towards the hospital entrance and takes off his expensive looking sunglasses, as I take my pager and send the same message to Turk, Carla and Elliot.

_He's in the building. Operation Avoiding Dan is in progress._

* * *

It's another hour and a half before I see Turk in the cafeteria again. He walks in frantically, probably just back from an emergency surgery. That, or he's really hungry.

"Hey, SCB!" I happily greet Turk, as he steps towards my table. "Aren't you going to get something to eat?"

"No, I'm not here for food." He speaks quickly, while looking around the room. "Look, the plan was going well, but something has gone really awry."

"What?"

"Dan may have pissed off Dr Cox."

"Uh-oh. What has he done?"

"Well…"

**Dan looks around for his brother on the second floor, but doesn't see him. However, he does see someone he recognises. With a grin on his face, he walks over. "Long time no see, Coxxie!"**

**Instantly recognising the voice, Dr Cox cringes. "Dan," he scathes. "To what do I owe this displeasure?"**

**  
"Lighten up, Coxsmith. Try pulling your panties out of your ass. You might feel better. I'm just here to find my little bro. Have you seen Johnny?"**

**Clutching a chart to his chest with one arm, Dr Cox rubs his nose with the other. "No, n-n-n-no. I haven't seen Sandra nor do I ever ****want**** to see Sandra."**

"**Oh, girls' name," Dan sarcastically responds. "Scary."**

"**I refused to be judged by a childish idiot who at over thirty years old still needs his mother to potty train him. Why don't you go and look for Melinda yourself? She should be fairly easy to spot. She's the one in the skirt."**

"**You know what Coxaroonie? I'm going to stay with you until I see my brother. How 'bout that?"**

**Dr Cox cringes. "Oh dear god." He walks away, but Dan follows him.**

"And to make it worse," Turk continues. "Dr Cox is in a horrible mood. Mr Corman is back."

Let me explain: Every hospital has one hypochondriac who visits on a regular basis, claiming to have contracted some tropical illness. Mr Corman is Sacred Heart's. Things had been quiet on the hypochondriac front for a while after Mr Corman was diagnosed with leukaemia, but it seems that he is back. And on the worst possible day.

"That can't be good."

Turk shakes his head. "It's not. And now Cox is after your blood. He wants to kill you. And if he can't get you, then he's happy to settle for killing Elliot, whichever one of you he sees first. Moral of the story: As well as Dan, you and Elliot need to avoid Dr Cox at all costs if either of you want to make it to the end of your shifts." Turk exhales, his sigh heavy. "Good luck, Vanilla Bear."

"I hope you see you again, man."

Turk and I suddenly hug.

"Uh… dude…" Turk nervously says. "The entire cafeteria is looking at us. Get off me, man."

The hug breaks, and glance round to notice everybody staring. When I turn back, Turk is gone. I sit back down to eat the rest of my food. As I do so, I write a message to Elliot, warning her about Cox. But before I get a chance to complete the message, another one comes through. It's from Turk.

Cox and Dan are heading towards the cafeteria. Get out. Get out of there now!

Without a second's thought, I spring up from my seat and run towards the back door of the cafeteria, leaving behind my half-eaten and sandwich and everyone in the cafeteria staring at me once again.

Well, it's not them that'll get killed, is it?

* * *

"Hey, Lys, wait up!" I turn around and notice Michael quickly walking up the hospital corridor towards me. "Did you give your dad the report card?"

"Yeah. He was really pleased," I answer. "He really liked you, by the way."

On Friday after school, Michael came with me to have something to eat with my dad. It was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life thus far (the most terrifying thing being the time I got caught skiving PE in the eight grade) but after a few minutes it was actually quite nice. My dad didn't become the ogre that I sort of expected him to be. To be honest, I was expecting him to be ultra-overprotective, trying to make up for lost time or whatever. And I was really proud of Michael. I was expecting him to be awkward and almost passive-aggressive after everything, but he was really friendly and he and my dad chatted about the most random of topics from college applications to who's going to win the football season… or baseball… or basketball. I sort of zoned out at that point.

"Really?"

"Yeah," I answer. "Although I'm not surprised."

Michael sceptically looks at me.

"Okay, I kinda was. I thought he might've eaten you. And I was expecting you to try and kill him."

"I though about it. But I decided against it. It didn't seem worth it. Anyway, I better go," Michael says. "I'm on the tea and coffee delivering duty this morning."

"Oh yeah, I'm doing that in the afternoon."

"What are you doing now?"

"I have no idea," I respond. "I'll go find out."

"Okay. See you," Michael says. "Wait, you're still coming to my house later, right?"

"Yeah. I'll see you there."

As Michael walks in the opposite direction back down the corridor, I walk towards the main area where the nurses' station is. When I get there, I see Dr Cox, standing there, looking angry as all hell, with a dark-haired guy I don't recognise. Dr Cox is who I was going to ask what to do and there's no way I'm going to speak to him right now. I'll just hang back and wait for the unknown guy to go away.

This is taking a while…

Dr Cox looks up from whatever he is doing, and he looks directly at me. Then a really evil smirk creeps across his face.

Oh dear…

Dr Cox whistles and directs the guy to follow him, before walking towards me. "Well isn't this just your lucky day."

"My lucky day?" I nervously repeat.

"Yes. You see my good friend Dan here is looking for someone. And while I would just love to help him, you see, as a doctor I have a gazillion other more important things to be doing such as, I don't know, giving medicine to patients, resuscitating them when they decide they're better than oxygen, taking a stethoscope and listening to the noises my butt makes. So, you see, I don't have time to be taking care of annoying people who do nothing but stalk me and talk and blah blah blah. Which is why you are going to deal with him. Dan, you're not to leave this girl's side until you find who you're looking for. Alyssa, good luck."

Dr Cox begins to walk away as Dan walks towards me.

"You know," he says to me, "you look familiar."

"I could say the same of you. God, you must be really annoying to have pissed off Dr Cox like that."

"It's true. I am annoying. And I'm going to annoy you too now."

"Fantastic." That was sarcasm. I turn around and begin walking down the corridor. Maybe this idiot won't follow me.

"Oh this is gonna be fun." He follows me down the corridor.

Damn.

* * *

This guy has been following me for two hours and already I want to kill him. There was the twenty minutes where he questioned everything:

**Alyssa is walking down the corridor, the dark-haired Dan following close behind. She looks relatively calm.**

**"Who's that?" Dan asked, pointing to a passing orderly.**

**"I don't know."**

**"What's that?" **

**"It's a cart of some kind. I don't know what it's for."**

**"Oh. Who do you look like?"**

**Sighing with slight annoyance, Alyssa answers, "I don't know."**

**"You don't know much, do you?"**

And then there's the point where he would not stop singing:

_"**Lean on me**_**_,"_ Dan warbles. "****_When you're not strong and I'll be your friend. I'll help you carry on. For it won't be long till I'm gonna need somebody to lean on. You just call on me, brother –"_**

"**Shh!" Alyssa mutters. "You're scaring all the patients."**

"**They don't like the song?" Dan asks. "Okay, I'll sing something else. ****_Aaand always look on the bright side of life. Always look on the light side of life. For life is quite absurd and death's the final word –"_**

**Turning around quickly, Alyssa glares at him. "Seriously?"**

"**Was that not appropriate?"**

"**You're in the ICU!"**

"**Fine," Dan reluctantly sighs. _"_****_I know a song that'll get on your nerves, get on your nerves, get on your nerves. I know a song that'll get on your nerves –"_**

"**Shut. The Hell. Up."**

**As Alyssa continues to walk, her fists clenched, there's silence. And more silence. And some more silence. She relaxes. But just as she does…**

_"**I KNOW A SONG THAT'LL GET ON YOUR NERVES, GET ON YOUR NERVES, GET ON YOUR NERVES. I KNOW A SONG THAT'LL GET ON YOUR NERVES, GET ON YOUR NERVES, GET ON YOUR NERVES. I KNOW A SONG THAT'LL GET ON YOUR NERVES…"**_

That went on for forty-two minutes, so you can see why I'm just an 'I know a' away from murdering him with my bare hands.

And you'll never guess what? He's still following me, even though I'm pushing a drinks' cart around going into patients' rooms.

"You know, for somebody who's supposedly looking for someone else, you don't seem to be doing very much looking."

Dan ignores me.

"Who are you looking for anyway?"

Dan grins. "A person?"

"A person?"

"Yeah."

"Which person?"

"Just a person."

I roll my eyes. "That's informative. You really are a manchild."

"And you're a pain in the ass," Dan retorts as he follows me into the room occupied by a Mr Corman.

I've been warned about Mr Corman. Well, through the grapevine warned. Kate told me that she heard a few staff members bitching about him. Which is completely inappropriate, but let's not swell on that. Apparently, Mr Corman is a raging hypochondriac who's been in this hospital so many times they considered letting him live here.

"Hello, Mr Corman," I say as I push the drinks cart into the room. "I'm Alyssa."

There's a fake exaggerated cough.

"And this is Dan," I say through gritted teeth. "My very talented and very annoying stalker."

"How you doing?" Dan waves.

Putting the best fake smile I can manage so as Mr Corman can't see my annoyance, I ask, "Can I get you something to drink?"

"No thank you," Mr Corman says. Then he lowers his eyebrows. "You look familiar."

Dan raises his hands. "Exactly what I've been saying all day."

"Have you been on cart duty before?" Mr Corman asks.

"Maybe," I sceptically say. I don't recognise Mr Corman. "Have you been in at any point in the last eight months?"

"No, kid," Mr Corman replies. "I only come in here once a year now. I used to be in here every few weeks, thinking I had some illness or other, but I don't do that anymore."

"Good for you. Are you sure you don't want anything to drink?"

"Yes, I'm sure." Mr Corman reaches for his TV remote and switches the TV on. It automatically goes on to what I can only assume is a kids' show playing the world's most annoying tune: The Birdie Song.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Dan grinning. "I love this song!"

"Of course you do."

Dan – the annoying creature that he is – starts dancing. And to make it worse, he's singing along to it.

I tiptoe out of the room, pulling the cart as quietly as I can, with just a shred of hope that Dan might not notice me leaving. I don't hear him behind me as I go up the corridor.

"Hey! Pain-In-The-Ass!"

Joy. I turn around. "What?"

Dan once again starts singing the Birdie Song. And he starts dancing up the corridor.

Somebody… please kill me."

* * *

It's into the afternoon now and I have successfully avoided Dan and Dr Cox. Only a few more hours until I can sign out. Which, of course, means that it is only a few more hours until I actually have to see Dan and explain everything. It's a win some/lose some situation.

I stopped by Mr Corman's room earlier on today. I'm surprised to say it, but he has actually changed. He is here just for a check-up; not claming to be ill. I guess the leukaemia really has changed him. Maybe that will calm Dr Cox down. Although, if he's dealing with my brother, probably not.

Walking down the corridor, I notice Elliot standing at the nurses' station. I glance around me, noting that the coast is clear, before walking towards her. "Hey."

"Hey," she replies. "I'd say the plan is going pretty well. Except for this." She gestures between the two of us.

"It's okay. They're not about. So for tonight, how we going to do this?"

Elliot thinks. "Do you want to speak to your brother first before everything else?"

"That's probably best. How about you drive home, I talk to Dan first and hopefully because I'm carless he'll give me a ride home and then we can explain everything. What do you think?"

"That'll be okay," Elliot answers. "We probably shouldn't hang around together for much longer. You never know when they're going to spring around the corner."

Elliot and I turn around, but we both jump back when we see someone standing directly in front of us.

"Holy crap, Turk!" Elliot shouts.

"Sorry, but you two are lousy at creating plans."

I raise an eyebrow. "What?"

"Dr Cox has pawned Dan off," Turk says, "on Alyssa."

"Crap."

"This might be okay," Elliot says.

"Huh?"

"Yeah. Alyssa doesn't know who Dan is. Dan doesn't know who Alyssa is. Hopefully neither will say anything that will give this whole thing away."

"They might not know who each other is right now," Turk interjects, "but when Alyssa finds out, she's gonna kill you too. He's currently trying to make her life a misery by trying to annoy her until she snaps and kills somebody. I wouldn't want to be either of you when she finds out."

"You know what we've got to do?" I say to Elliot.

"Avoid Dan, Dr Cox and Alyssa at all costs?"

"Yep."

Turk looks incredulously at us. "You two are hopeless."

Elliot shrugs. "We know."

* * *

Holy mother of god.

"Are you a professional stalker or something?" I rhetorically ask. "Seriously. Leave me alone, would ya?"

With that annoying grin that gets no less irritating the more you see it, Dan replies, "No. Remember what Coxxie said? I've to stay with you until I find who I'm looking for."

"Shouldn't you actually go and look for them?" I say, just stepping into the cafeteria. "Y'know, instead of pissing me off when I'm about to take break with my friend?"

"Nah, this is much more fun."

"Fantastic," I respond with so much sarcasm.

As I sit down at the same table as Kate– Dan choosing also to sit opposite me, next to Kate, poor girl – she gives Dan a confused look before looking to me.

"Alyssa," Kate beings, "who the hell's this? And why is he stealing the fries off my plate?"

"I'm Dan," he answers, mouth full of fries. "Because I'm hungry and they taste good."

"Then buy your own."

"But then they don't taste so good."

Kate, shaking her head incredulously, looks to me. "Oh my god."

"I know. This is the whiny annoying manchild I texted you about earlier."

"And she's the pain in the ass I texted my friend about earlier."

Kate, who I can tell is already really annoyed, speaks to Dan. "Could you keep it zipped for like… five minutes?"

"I'll think about that." Dan bobs his head from side to side, before smirking at Kate. "No."

"Are you kidding me?"

"This is what I've had to put up with all day," I scathingly explain. "And if I have to put up with him much longer, I'm going to snap and take out every damn person in this hospital, including myself."

"Violent much?" Dan asks.

Ignored. "Why are you eating lunch so late anyway?"

"Because I didn't have anything earlier and I'm really hungry now."

"Fair enough. Has Michael left already?"

"Yeah," Kate answers. "Ages ago."

"Damn."

"Who's Michael?" Dan asks. Then he looks to me. "You screwing him?"

I raise an eyebrow and glance to Kate. "Yes. Yes I am."

Kate's jaw drops. "What?"

"Can we continue this conversation later?" I say to Kate. "Once I'm rid of this asshole?"

"Oh, come on," Dan says, "I wanna hear the gossip."

"Yeah?" I ask, standing from my seat. "Well you're not gonna because I'm gonna find whoever the hell it is you're looking for. Move your butt. Kate, I'll talk to you later."

I begin to walk out of the cafeteria, and as per usual, Dan starts following me.

"Tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me." He says over and over and over and over (you get the idea?) again.

I will be so glad when I never have to see this asshole again.

* * *

Cowering in a supply closet isn't the best place to hide, I know that. But when you notice that your brother is just down the corridor, you don't really have many options. To its credit, this supply closet has kept me successfully hidden many a time during my years here.

I think my number might be up though, because the door is opening and someone is stepping in. I only look up once I've heard the door quickly closing again and see that the person who has entered is Elliot.

"Why are you hiding in the closet?"

"I saw Dan and Alyssa down the corridor and this was the best place to they gone?"

"Well, I didn't see them."

"Why are you hiding in here then?"

"I'm not. Carla told me you were in here. This is bad," Elliot mutters. "We are going to get killed by so many people."

"Our plan," pause, "sucked."

"What are we going to do?"

I glance around the supply closet. "We could just live here forever and hope that nobody ever notices us."

"Or we could go out and face the music," Elliot replies. "We got ourselves into this mess, so we better get ourselves out if it."

"I don't like that plan," I melodramatically whine. "In that plan we die."

"I'll text Alyssa and tell her to meet us down downstairs and save her from your brother. Come on." Elliot holds out her hand, which I take a hold of. "We can do this."

I follow her out of the supply closet.

* * *

"Tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me."

That is all I've heard for the last freaking ten minutes. "You're like a broken record. Change the goddamn tune!"

Dan shakes his head. "Not until you tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me."

"Lord love a duck…"

As I walk along the corridor, desperately trying to ignore the monotonous 'tell me' that I've been hearing for what feels like an eternity, my cell phone beeps in my pocket. God, it's probably Kate trying to get me to answer her questions now.

Oh, good, it's not. It's actually my aunt.

Hey, Could you meet me in the downstairs waiting room just now?

I could question why my aunt wants me to go to the downstairs waiting room, but to be honest, I'm more thankful.

"I need to go downstairs," I tell Dan.

"Why?"

"I don't know, but I can only hope it has something to do with getting rid of you." A grin then breaks out over my previously straight face.

I start walking quickly towards the stairwell, a little skip in my step.

* * *

We find Alyssa and Dan at the downstairs waiting room. Alyssa is sitting on one of the seats, her hands so scrunched up that it seems like she could punch something at any given moment, while Dan is dancing around to some commercial jingle.

"Okay, seriously?" Alyssa angrily says. "Could you be any less irritating?"

Dan, grinning and continuing to dance, replies. "You're a no fun, pain in the ass, you know that?"

Alyssa rolls her eyes. "Yes, and you're an annoying manchild. I thought we'd been over this."

"You know," I whisper to Elliot, "she'll have had to put up with that all afternoon."

Elliot nods. "We are bad people."

As Alyssa and Dan continue their task of trying to wind the other one up, Elliot and I step forward. By the time we're almost standing beside them, Dan turns around.

"Just the person I've been looking for all day." Dan grins at me. "And Elliot. Hey."

"Oh good," Alyssa dryly remarks. "Maybe you two can take him. Y'know, before I kill him."

While Alyssa was speaking, Dan was looking at Elliot. More specifically, looking at her stomach. "Elliot got fat," he comments.

"You really are stupid," Alyssa mutters, shaking her head.

Elliot looks at me. "Okay, I'm with Alyssa. I will kill him."

"She's pregnant, you moron," I say.

Pointing at Dan, Alyssa asks, "Seriously, who is this guy?"

"Alyssa," I begin, "that's my brother Dan. And Dan, the poor girl you've been torturing for hours is Elliot's niece Alyssa."

Dan and Alyssa look at each other, as if they're working things out in their heads. Almost simultaneously, a look of realisation watches over each of them. "Oh!"

"Yeah," I murmur. "I'm sorry you had to put up with each other. Actually, I'm more sorry to Alyssa."

"Can I leave now? Please?" Alyssa asks. " I said I'd go to Michael's like… two hours ago."

"Go," Elliot answers. "I'll see you later, okay?"

"See ya, pain in the ass!" Dan says.

"Later, manchild," Alyssa responds.

Once Alyssa is out of the area, Dan speaks to Elliot. "Do you see your niece a lot?"

"You could say that," Elliot answers. "She actually lives with us."

"Really?" Dan questions. "That must be – wait, 'us'?"

Elliot's eyes widen past their normal diameter. "Um…"

"You two are back together?"

"Yep."

"And you're having a baby?"

"Yeah," Elliot answers. "In about fourteen weeks."

Dan looks shocked. "That's something you could have told me earlier."

"Sorry about that," I answer. "Dan, could you wait here for half an hour or so, so we can finish up our shifts and then we'll explain everything to you?"

Dan is more serious than he was when we first got down here. "You know what, I've got a couple of things to get from my car. I'll meet you there."

As Elliot and I walk away in the opposite direction, I quietly say to her. "I guess that wasn't so bad."

* * *

When I walk out of the hospital, Dan is sitting on the trunk of his car. I go over and sit beside him. "Hey."

"Hey," Dan replies. "Where's Elliot?"

"She's still got a couple of patients to finish up with." I glance down at the car I'm sitting on. "You know, this is a sweet rental car."

"It's not a rental."

"What? How can you afford a car like this on a bartender's salary?"

"I don't tend bar anymore. I got my realtor's licence."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. And I've been doing really well. All that practice of lying to you about who broke your bike has eventually paid off."

"You broke my bike?"

"It was twenty-five years ago, Johnny, get over it."

I pause. "Do you still live in Mom's attic?"

"Nah," Dan replies. "I moved out of there a year ago. Got my own place."

"Wow. You've got your life in order. I'm proud of you, Dan."

"What about you? You're gonna be a dad. You're going to have a kid. That's huge!"

"I know. I can't believe it myself sometimes."

"So, how long have you and Elliot been back together?"

"Just short of nine months."

Dan lowers his eyebrows. "Isn't she nearly six months pregnant?"

"That is correct. It was a surprise."

"I always knew you two would end up back together," Dan says. "Does Mom know?"

"Not yet," I answer. "I haven't told her."

"You should. She'd be really happy. And she could do with some good news. You should call her."

"I will, eventually. You know, I bought a house."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I wish I'd know before that you were a realtor now. Maybe you could have got me discount."

Dan laughs.

"I've been thinking a lot about Dad lately. There are things I wish I could ask him, you know, like how to handle this, and talk things out with him. I just wish I could ask him what he thought, you know?"

"Yeah," Dan sadly sighs. "Dad would proud of you, Johnny. I think Dad would have been proud of both of us."

"I hope so."

At this point, I see Elliot walking out of the hospital towards us. "We ready to go?" she asks when she reaches the car.

"Yeah," Dan answers. "Is it cool if I follow you guys? I don't know where I'm going."

"Sure," Elliot answers, just before she sits in the passenger seat of the car.

A second later, I sit in the driver's side and turn the key in the ignition to start the car.

"You alright?" Elliot asks me.

"Yeah," I answer. "I'm great."

I put the car into reverse and move out of the parking spot, before changing gear to drive away, Dan following close behind.

---


	25. My Hangover Treatment

**AN:** _I really didn't mean to leave it almost a month before updating! I apologise. My laptop went away for repair and then I didn't have a lot of time to write. Once again, I am sorry. :) The next chapter will definitely be sooner. I still have to write it though, but I have a fairly good idea of what I want to write. And plus, I have tonnes of time to write. I had originally (pre- laprop disappearing) planned to have the next chapter completed before posting this one, but it hasn't worked that way. And I had surgery to remove a ganglion cyst from my finger yesterday and it's hurting pretty badly (this is _after_ painkillers) so I updated to cheer myself up. *sigh*_

_I'll be honest with you. Not a lot happens in the chapter. It's filler-y. But I hope you might like it anyway. :)  
**

* * *

**_

**My Hangover Treatment**

I love those Saturday mornings that Elliot and I both have off. We sleep late, watch some morning TV in bed (although Elliot chose to read one of her pregnancy books instead), just generally be lazy. It's 11.30am, and we're only just eating breakfast: A slow breakfast, sitting at the table as opposed to the grab a piece of toast and run while trying to get ready for work.

"You know," Elliot says, as she leafs through a paint chart, "I was thinking we should probably paint the nursery in the house yellow. Or a kinda cream colour."

"How come?"

"Because we don't know what the sex of the baby is and that way it's neutral."

"Yeah. I hadn't thought of that," I respond. "We should probably start thinking about names too."

Without looking back up at me, Elliot slides a book across the table. I pick it up.

"_1000 Names for Boys and Girls,"_ I read the book's title. "Awesome." I open the book and being reading.

The calm in the room is disturbed by the sound of the apartment door opening. Alyssa walks in.

"Hey. How was dance class?" Elliot asks.

"It was okay. But people should not be made to do the freaking splits at nine on a Saturday morning. None of us were amused. But our final routines are improving."

"That's good," Elliot says, at the same time picking up a letter from the table. "This came for you, by the way."

Alyssa takes the envelope. "Thanks." She goes to her room.

"Aidan's a nice name," I say, still reading the book.

Elliot looks up from the paint leaflets. "Aidan Dorian?" She thinks for a minute. "Maybe."

Just as I'm about to suggest another name, there is an almighty shout from Alyssa's room.

"Oh my god!"

Alyssa runs out of her room, holding a piece of paper so tightly that it's at risk of tearing.

"What is it, honey? What's wrong?" Elliot quickly says, her face etched with concern.

"IgotintoHavard!"

"What?" Elliot and I say at the same time.

"I got into freaking Harvard!" She repeats, jumping up and down.

Elliot's jaw drops. She glances at me before quickly leaving her seat to hug Alyssa. "Oh my god! Congratulations!"

Alyssa just laughs. I think she's too shocked/happy to really say anything coherent.

"Congratulations, Alyssa." I add. "I'm really happy for you." It's so true. The girl works so hard, she deserves it.

"Thanks," Alyssa responds, her laughter calmed. "Oh my god. I can't believe it! When I applied, I didn't think I had a cat in hell's chance of getting in. Somebody look," Alyssa holds out the letter. "It definitely says I have an offer, doesn't it? I haven't miss read something and am going to be bitterly disappointed when you actually tell me that I've actually been rejected. Right?"

I take the letter from Alyssa and read down it quickly. "Yep. You definitely have an offer. You haven't been rejected and you can keep celebrating."

"Oh thank God," Alyssa giggles. "I can't believe it."

"So who are you going to call first then?" Elliot asks Alyssa.

"My dad," she answers right away. "Then Michael. And then Kate." Alyssa then frowns slightly. "I'm kinda going to run up your phone bill just slightly."

"Don't worry about it," Elliot says. "The phone's all yours."

"Thanks." Alyssa picks up the phone from the base unit, and walks in the direction of her room. "I'll be back in a while." She closes her door behind her.

"Wow," Elliot mutters. "I can't believe it. She got into Harvard. I'm so proud of her. We should do something nice for her. What do you think?"

"Yeah," I agree. "What should we do?"

Elliot frowns. "I'm not sure. We could just let her choose something to do herself. That way she does something she really likes."

"That seems fair."

"You know," Elliot sighs, "when Alyssa goes off for college, I'm really gonna miss her."

I walk over and hug Elliot. "I'm going to miss her too."

* * *

Oh my god, I'm still reeling from opening that envelope this morning and seeing that I have a place at Harvard. Something just seems so strange about it though. It's like… I'm now officially _going to college!_ And I'll be moving to Massachusetts in a few months. Holy crap. I'm moving all the way across the country again. But what the hell.

I'm not the only one who got a college offer today. Kate was offered a place at Brown and Michael has a place at UCLA. The phone calls this morning were hilarious. There was a lot of screaming and happiness and laughing. If there were more phone calls like that, the world would be a much happier place.

It was strange talking to my dad about it though. He was so happy that I got a place and everything, but the whole time I was thinking it'll be lucky if he's still around to see me go off to college in September. And I'm pretty sure he was thinking the same thing because the conversation (what there was of it) was really awkward and neither of us spoke about it. It was like the giant elephant standing on the phone line. My dad's getting sicker, I can clearly see that, and it probably won't be a hell of a lot longer until he decides to go into a hospice. I tried to be happy when I told him, but I just kept thinking of that moment when I'm going to be at the airport and I'm saying goodbye to everyone and he's not there because he's dead. But, I'm trying not to think about that too much. Because if I do, it's just going to upset me, and I don't want to get upset yet.

Kate has a free house tonight. Her parents are away somewhere. Don't ask me where; I don't know. Hell, Kate doesn't even know. When I asked her, she couldn't remember, which is always helpful. And since so many of us got college offers today, she's invited some people in our year around for a house party. As I walk into Kate's house, I'm almost taken aback by the loud music. Wow, there are more people here than I was expecting. Some people I know, but others I'm not so sure of.

When I walk into the living room, Kate almost dances towards me, a cup of something in her hand. "You made it!" She hugs me.

"I made it! There are a lot of people here, by the way. Your parents are gonna be pissed."

Kate scoffs. "Please, they're not going to be back until late tomorrow. I clean this whole place up before then! You need to _relaaaaaaaaaaaaax_!"

"Have you been drinking?"

"No."

"Kate."

"Okay, maybe I've had one or two," she grins. "I'm just having fun. You want something?"

"I think I'll pass."

"Oh, come on!" Kate whines. "You work hard all the time; you never put a foot wrong. Live a little, girl! Have a drink. You know you want to…"

I roll my eyes. "Screw it. I'll have _one_ drink."

"Yay!" Kate grins. "Okay, so what you having?"

"Just pour me whatever the hell it is you're drinking."

Kate dances away.

What the hell, right? It's a party. One drink won't do any harm.

* * *

It's about ten-fifteen minutes later, and my drink is… um… well, gone. I drank it. It tasted like fruit juice.

I'm sitting with Kate and Michael and a few others on Kate's staircase. Actually, when I say I'm sitting with Michael, I mean I'm actually sitting on his knee. Whatever.

While we're still talking and laughing about the most random of crap, David (one of our friends from the hospital who was also invited) returns carrying so many cups, I think he's going to end up dropping them all. "I got more drinks."

Thank you," I say, taking my cup.

We all take a sip of our drinks at the same time, and we all pull the same face.

Michael asks the all-important question. "What the hell did you put in this?"

"Um… Vodka and something else and coke."

"Something else'?" Kate raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah, the white-ish coloured bottle?"

"Malibu," Kate responds.

David frowns. "Oops."

"You know what we should do after this," Mason (another hospital guy) says. "We should play 'I've Never'."

"No!" I protest.

"Why not? Too chicken we'll find out all your kinky secrets?"

"I don't _have_ any kinky secrets."

Mason starts making a chicken clucking noise.

"Fine. I'll play if it'll get you to shut up!"

Mason laughs. "Score."

"You get that I hate you, right?"

* * *

It's about midnight when Elliot and I decide to go to bed. Well, it was less 'decide' as we were both crashing on the couch trying to watch the TV. When you're falling asleep in front of the TV, it's definitely a sign you should go to bed.

"Do you think we should stay up a little longer?" Elliot says, amidst a yawn. "Alyssa's not home yet from the party."

"Didn't she say she was going to stay at Kate's?"

"Oh, yeah." Elliot climbs into bed, pulling the duvet cover over her. She snuggles into me and I start rubbing her belly.

A second later, I feel the baby kick under my hand. "Wow," I mumble.

Giggling slightly through another yawn, Elliot says, "I never get tired of feeling that. Okay, I'm switching the lamp off." She reaches over to turn off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." I kiss Elliot's lips, before resting my head on the pillow and closing my eyes.

The next thing I know, is I'm woken with a start by a loud bang coming from the living room. I sit up quickly and look for Elliot. She's still next to me.

"JD, what the hell was that?" She frantically asks. Even in the dark, I can see the fear all over her face.

"I don't know. Stay here."

Damn. There's nothing I can take to use as a makeshift weapon. Nervously, I walk through to the living room. There's no one there. I see then that the kitchen light is on. That's where I go next. I can feel the butterflies in my stomach working in overdrive as I gingerly push back the kitchen door and see…

… ground coffee all over the floor, some smashed glass, the top cupboard open and Alyssa kneeling on the ground frenetically trying to clean it all up. "Shit," she says to herself. She doesn't have a brush, so it trying to clear everything up with her bare hands. This'll end well. "OW!"

See, told you.

Alyssa, who hasn't yet noticed me, looks at the palm of her hand. The cut she has given herself with a rogue piece of glass is bleeding quite heavily for the size of cut it is. She tries to stand up, but stumbles slightly. With another little stagger, she goes to what we've been calling the medicine cupboard, looking for a band-aid (I assume). Finding the box and looking inside it, she realises that there is only one left, and it's one of the tiny ones.

"Yeah, you're going to need something bigger to cover that cut."

Alyssa jumps back in fright, tossing the band-aid box away. "Holy crap!" She says, way too loudly. "Jesus, I got a fright."

"No kidding," I sarcastically respond. "How did the coffee jar end up smashed on the floor?"

"Well, it's a long story, but I was trying to find the coffee, so I knelt on the counter top to reach it but I dropped it and it smashed."

I think I smell… Alcohol. "Alyssa Reid, have you been drinking?"

Alyssa looks down at the ground. "I'm not going to lie. Yes, I have. A lot."

"Right," I say. She is pretty drunk if the strength of the smell of alcohol is anything to go by. "Okay, you should go and try and sleep it off. Go. Now. "

Alyssa walks out of the kitchen quickly and to her room.

"She's going to be paying for that tomorrow." I mutter to myself.

Five minutes later once I've cleaned up the mess in the kitchen, I go back to the bedroom. Elliot is sitting on the bad, wide-awake.

"It was Alyssa," I tell her. "She's drunk."

"You are _kidding_ me? I will kill her." Elliot angrily responds.

"That's maybe not the most effective way of teaching her a lesson."

"What are you saying?"

"Okay, the first time Dan came home drunk…"

* * *

Stage one: The Wake-up Call.

It's 7am. Elliot stands by the stereo, which has just for now been moved to right outside Alyssa's bedroom door.

I sit at the breakfast table. I actually made breakfast: fry-up. Which I know is not healthy, but it's all part of the punishment. "You ready?"

"Yep," Elliot says, her face deadly serious.

"Okay then. Three."

Elliot puts the CD in the player.

"Two."

She turns the volume up full blast and walks away.

"One."

Just as Elliot sits back down at the table, the music starts playing so loudly that it hurts your head. And that's when you're sober. Imagine how it would be for someone with a hangover.

After just a few seconds of the music, Alyssa's bedroom door slams open. Her hair is dishevelled, her eyes completely bloodshot. "Oww…." She walks over to the stereo and turns the volume right down, before walking to the table.

"How is your head?" Elliot asks her, a sadistic smirk just playing at her lips.

"Oww." Alyssa rests her head on the table.

I lift a plate and lay it in front of her. "Aren't you going to eat your breakfast?"

Sitting up and taking a look at the food in front of her, Alyssa gags. "No thanks." Her head goes back to the table.

"Come on," Elliot adds. "You should eat something. We spent ages cooking all of this."

"But I feel really sick."

"It'll make you feel better."

Reluctantly, Alyssa picks up her fork and starts eating. She eats about three forkfuls, before the colour completely drains from her face. "Oh my god," she quickly says before leaving the table and running to the bathroom.

Elliot follows her a few seconds later. "Alyssa, are you alright?"

She is answered by the sound of Alyssa hurling.

"Fantastic," Elliot mutters sarcastically. She walks back to the table.

Stage one: Complete.

* * *

Stage Two: Forced Study.

It's been two hours since Alyssa first threw up. The girl is suffering. And I know I shouldn't be saying this as a doctor, but it is really entertaining. Oh well, it's teaching her a lesson.

A while ago, Alyssa asked that if we had time, we might help her study once in a while. Well…

"Covalent bonds," Elliot says. She is sitting at the table, Alyssa's solid blue chemistry lab book, in front of her. "Go."

Alyssa lowers her eyebrows. "Um… a covalent bond is… um…"

"You know this."

"A covalent bond is the electrostatic reaction… between a… shared pair of electrons and… the nuclei of two atoms?"

"Good," Elliot responds. She turns the pages. "Okay… what's the relationship between boiling points ant the metallic bond?"

Alyssa thinks. "The lower the boiling point, the weaker the metallic bond."

"Yep. And why?"

"Uh… because the free moving outer electron is further from the nucleus which decreases the electrostatic attraction to the nucleus?"

"Correct."

"Can I please stop?" Alyssa whines. "My head really hurts."

"Come on," Elliot protests. "A few more questions and then you can stop."

Alyssa sighs and puts her head on the table for the millionth time today. She was told she could stop after a few more questions an hour and a half ago when she was doing maths questions. That was painful to listen to.

I just need to wait a little bit for my next part to play.

Elliot continues to question Alyssa: "Describe monatomic elements. Go."

"They're in Group Zero. They are noble gases and all have a full outer electron shell. They exist as single gases. They have very low boiling points ad melting points. The only attractions between them are weak Van der Waals forces. _Please _can I stop now?"

Elliot closes the book and smiles. "Fine."

And there's my cue. "It's such a nice day." It's true; it's really sunny and according to the weather reports, highs of ninety-five degrees. "You know what we should all do? We should go down to that outdoor mall at Bleaker."

Elliot nods. "That's a good idea. We do need to look for things for the new house."

Not seeming particularly enthusiastic, Alyssa asks the question: "Can I please stay here? I really don't feel well."

"Oh, no," I say. "You should come with us."

"Yeah," Elliot agrees. "We need your help. I mean, who else are we going to get to give us an opinion on things?"

"Carla? Turk?"

Elliot scoffs. "They're both working. Plus, your opinion would mean a lot to us. So go, get ready for 10 and we'll leave. Okay?"

With a glare in Elliot's direction, Alyssa reluctantly stands and heads towards her room.

"Lighten up!" I say as she walks away. "You love shopping."

"You two are evil, you know that?"

"We know," Elliot smirks.

Stage Two: Complete.

* * *

Stage Three: The outing.

The sun is shining brightly as we walk around the outdoor mall. While most people (including Elliot and me) are enjoying the weather, Alyssa on the other hand…

"Oww… my head still freaking hurts."

"Oh, come on. It can't be that bad," I say, trying to hide the sadism. "Look at the size of the sunglasses you're wearing."

The lenses of Alyssa's sunglasses are so big that they cover half of her face, and they're so dark that I'm surprised she can actually see out of them at all.

Despite the huge sunglasses, I can still sense the pure venom when Alyssa looks back at me. "No. Just… _no._"

Even though there was a somewhat nasty ulterior motive for this shopping trip, it has proved to be quite successful anyway. We managed to pick up quite a few paint samples and ideas for the new house; and Elliot even saw some cute newborn-sized baby clothes in neutral colours that we decided to buy and put away.

Now we're walking into a furniture shop. While you would think it would dull down slightly since we're inside, the store's glass ceiling would beg to differ.

"You're inside Alyssa," Elliot says, glancing over her shoulder. "Take the sunglasses off."

"But it's so bright in here."

"Take 'em off, Alyssa."

With a reluctant sigh, Alyssa removes the sunglasses from her face and tosses them in her bag.

"Thank you," Elliot says. "Where should we go first? Nursery department?"

"Sounds like a safe bet to me."

Elliot looks to Alyssa, who is still wincing with the brightness. "What do you think, Alyssa?"

"I don't care."

"Fine then."

We've been wandering around the nursery section for about an hour and a half now. Who knew there was so much to buy? And so much choice.

"I really can't decide which one I like better," Elliot says, looking between two cots.

The cots are fairly similar in style, but the wood of the frames are different shades. One's beech; the other maple.

"Me neither."

Elliot once again looks to Alyssa. "What do you think?"

No response.

"Alyssa? Alyssa!"

Snapped out of her stare into oblivion, Alyssa looks confused. "What?"

I answer. "Which of those two cots do you think is nicer?"

"Um…" She looks between the two of them. "They're both nice?"

"But what's nicer?"

"To be honest, they sort of look the same to me."

Elliot rolls her eyes, before sighing. "Maybe we should wait until we actually decide on a colour scheme before choosing a furniture colour."

"Probably," I agree. "Or we could go to the specialist baby furniture store on the other side of town and see what they've got."

"Okay, enough _please,_ Alyssa suddenly says. "I get it. I screwed up. You're pissed off and you're trying to torture me. But really, I feel _horrible_, which is punishment enough without all the extra agony. So please can I go home and try to sleep this damn thing off? Please?"

Elliot's face is so serious. Her lips are almost completely horizontal. "Fine then. Let's go home." She starts to walk towards the exit of the store.

Alyssa, with her head hung in shame, does the same.

I would not like to be her right now.

* * *

The car ride home was quiet and awkward. As was the elevator ride back up to the apartment. Now we're all back in the apartment. Alyssa heads towards her room.

"Don't go anywhere," Elliot sternly tells her. "We want to talk to you. Sit down."

Following Elliot's instructions, Alyssa takes a seat opposite us at the table.

"Well, I think you've learned somewhat of a lesson here."

Alyssa meekly nods.

"But I have to ask," Elliot says, "what the hell were you thinking getting drunk like that?"

"I don't know," Alyssa answers. "Everyone was drinking and I thought 'okay, I'll just have one drink' and then one drink led to another one. I didn't mean to drink as much as I did."

"Which begs the question: Why were you drinking in the first place?"

"Elliot's right," I add. "You know better than that. You know the dangers. You know it's illegal. How did you get a hold of the alcohol anyway?"

"Some other people brought it over."

"And how did they get it?" I ask.

Alyssa cringes. "Fake IDs."

"Should've guessed," Elliot mumbles. "Okay, I hate to do this… but… you're grounded. For a week. No cell phone, no laptop. Only out for school and volunteering. You got it? We're really disappointed in you."

"Yeah," Alyssa frowns. "I'm sorry."

"Okay," Elliot says. "Go to your room."

Once Alyssa is gone, Elliot turns to me. "Was that too harsh? Did we do the right thing there?"

"I think we did," I answer. "She's got to learn some way."

* * *

I'm so embarrassed with myself about Saturday night. I can't believe I got as drunk as that. Honestly, there are parts of Saturday night that are just a blur. I've definitely learned my lesson.

Free period today should be interesting. Maybe between everybody who was there on Saturday we can piece together what actually happened? That could be entertaining and/or painful. We shall see.

Just as I am reaching the study room, Kate walks out. "Hey," she says. "I'm wandering down to the office. Wanna come with?"

"Yeah." I continue walking past the study room door, and through the music corridor.

"How hungover were you on Sunday morning?" I ask Kate.

Kate sighs. "I have never fell so ill in my life. You?"

"I was dead," I respond. "I really was."

When I tuck the hair behind my ear, Kate glances at my hand. "How did you get that cut on your hand?"

"I was clearing up the shards of a coffee jar which I somehow - don't ask me how, I don't remember - managed to drop out of the top cupboard, which woke up Elliot and JD who decided to use all of yesterday to torture me by aggravating the hangover. Word of advice: never do maths when you're hung over. Just… don't do it."

This is a really slow walk to the office.

Kate has a really weird look on her face. "So um… how much of Saturday night do you actually remember?"

"Um… I remember when we started drinking then it all goes downhill from then on. Oh! I do remember us sitting on your staircase singing at the top of our voices."

"That really happened?" Kate cringes. "God, I was really hoping I'd dreamed that up. What were we singing?"

"Jesus Take the Poker Face Love Story Friends Met Your Mother theme song."

Kate raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah, we barely made it through the chorus of one song before you randomly started singing another one. It was… weird. We got yelled at to shut up after about half an hour. And then you disappeared and I think – please note the use of the word '_think_' - I went to hang out with Michael."

"Which reminds me," Kate sternly says. "Could you please tell your boyfriend that I never, ever wish to see his bare ass in my coat closet ever again? 'Kay, thanks."

"What?"

A bewildered look spreads over Kate's face and she stops walking. "You don't remember? _Seriously?_"

"No," I quietly respond. "I have no idea what you're getting at."

"_Really? _You don't know?"

"I really don't. So, please. Enlighten me."

With a laugh, Kate shakes her head before looking at me. "I sort of - actually there's no 'sort of' about it. I walked in on you and Michael in the coat closet."

"What do you mean?"

She rolls her eyes. "I walked _in_ on you."

"Huh? You walked in on – Oh my god!"

"Yeah."

"Oh my god, we had sex in your coat closet?!"

Kate pulls a disgusted face.

Before she makes a comment, I add, "I meant 'we' as in me and Michael. Oh my god. And you walked in?!"

"Yeah." Kate's disgusted face returns. "It was a… sobering experience to say the least. And that was after I and everyone else had seen some of your _other_ public displays of affection. Seriously, every time I turned around the two of you were making out. It was severely nauseating."

"Oh crap," I mutter. "I'm so embarrassed."

"Hey. Just be thankful it was me that walked in and not somebody else. If that had got around school, you would _never_ have heard the end of it."

"No-one else knows?"

Kate shakes her head. "You seriously have no recollection of that? How?"

"I was completely hammered. We both were," I answer, putting a hand on my head. "I am never drinking alcohol again," I quietly say to myself, just as we reach the office.

Kate raises a sarcastic eyebrow. "Yeah. Right then."

"Oh my god. I could not be more mortified right now."

"Give yourself a break," Kate responds. "You weren't the only one out of their face on Saturday. And you won't be the first girl in the world to have drunkenly doinked her boyfriend in somebody else's coat closet."

"Not helping with the embarrassment."

"Sorry. Put it this way: at least it can't get any worse."

"I guess," I sigh. "But for the record I am never going to a party at your house again. In fact, I probably shouldn't even be speaking to you right now."

"Probably not. But you will anyway."

"Yeah. By the way, who needs enemies when they have friends like you?"

Kate's jaw melodramatically drops. "Bitch! I'm not taking to you."

"Yeah, right then."

Kate glares at me. I jestingly grin before we both start laughing.


	26. Our Weekend Away

**AN:** Hey! Thanks for the preview reviews! I really appreciate them! Hope you like this. :)**

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**Our Weekend Away**

If there's one thing I know about Elliot, it's not to disturb her while she's trying to pack. The added clause to that is: Do not disturb Elliot when she's trying to pack, especially not after she's had a horrible and exhausting shift at the hospital.

"You know, you could've told me about this earlier instead of leaving it until the morning before we leave," Elliot tiredly mutters as she skirts about the room, dressed in a pair of pyjama pants and an oversized t-shirt.

"In hindsight, I should have said earlier and given you more time to prepare. But I wanted to surprise you, and I wasn't to know you were going to end up working really late tonight. I'm sorry."

Elliot pauses for a second; still grasping at the t-shirt she was about to put into her bag. "No, I'm sorry. I'm just being cranky. I'm tired and I'm cranky." She lets out a sigh. "Screw it. That's all I'm packing. And if I don't have enough… well, I'll just buy more up there."

"Elliot, we're only there for three days."

"Still. You never know. What time do we have to leave in the morning?" She asks amidst a yawn.

You know how yawning is contagious? Yeah. "If we want to have time to do anything worthwhile tomorrow-" she's not going to like this – "probably about five."

Elliot seems calm at this. "So I'll need to get up at say… three thirty to get ready." She glances at the clock. And this is where she'll yell at me. "It's twelve thirty now. Three hours sleep. Are you kidding?" She scoffs as she flops into bed.

"Yeah, sorry. But hey, it's a four-hour drive. You could sleep in the car."

"'Could'? Try, 'will'," Elliot snaps sarcastically. "God. These days I can barely work on seven hours sleep. Three hours is going to be a disaster. Don't expect me to be in a good mood."

"Oh, don't worry," I say as I switch off the bedroom lamp, plunging the room into darkness. "I'm not."

* * *

"Remind me why we're doing this again?"

It's five in the morning. As expected, Elliot was not in a good mood when I woke her up. Honestly, it was quite terrifying. Nobody in the history of the earth has ever said the word 'frick' as many times as Elliot said it in the hour she took to get ready. Actually, occasionally, the frick manifested itself as its much, much stronger older brother. Particularly when I was trying to wake Elliot up in the first place. That was fun….

I have just sat in the driver's seat of the car after putting the bags into the trunk of the car. "Because, as blackmail for volunteering for that conference in a few weeks, Kelso gave me the weekend off, and as a treat I thought I'd take you away for the weekend because, well, we haven't had a lot of time for us." I turn the key in the ignition. "And once the baby comes, we'll have even less time for us."

"Okay." Elliot sinks further into the car seat. Her blonde hair is tied back in a loose ponytail, and the hooded sweater of mine that I haven't worn in months fits over her like a blanket. "How long is the drive up to the lake?"

"About four hours," I respond, as I begin to drive on to the busy road in the direction of the highway.

"Ugh."

"Come on, it'll be fun." Even I don't believe me. "We could play car games? Twenty questions? The license plate game? You choose."

There's silence.

"Elliot?"

I glance over and notice that Elliot's eyes are tightly closed. She's sleeping.

"That was quick," I mutter quietly to myself.

* * *

After a silent four hours, I eventually pull into the car park of the little hotel we'll be staying in for the next couple of days. Elliot, still soundly asleep (_still_, not _again)_, rests her head against the passenger side window. She's barely moved since she fell asleep, and her hand has been sitting on the crest of her baby bump.

"Elliot," I quietly say, rubbing her arms. "Elliot, honey, wake up."

Stirring just slightly, Elliot mumbles something that is incomprehensible as a word.

"We're here, Elliot."

A little bit more coherence seems to be returning to Elliot. Through narrow eyes, she glances around herself as if she's trying to register her surroundings. "We're here?" she questions. "Already?"

"Already? You've been asleep for the last four hours."

Elliot blinks. "Oh."

A few minutes later, we're checked in to the hotel and shown to our room by an over cheerily hotel porter who made the mistake of asking Elliot a complex questions about her pregnancy (apparently, his wife just found out she's pregnant) while she was still pretty out of it. She just stared at him with a completely blank face before eventually using the phrase 'I have no idea what you just said.'

Now that we're in the room and we've both freshened up from the travel, Elliot has a little bit more life in her. "This is nice." She yawns, looking around the room. Before long she sits down on the bed, before lying back.

"Yeah. Not too fancy, but everything you'd need," I say as I lie back beside her. "Feeling awake yet?"

"I'm getting there."

"Good." And then I yawn.

"You're kidding me, right?" Elliot laughs.

"What?"

"Yawning? Seriously? You can't be tired. We just got here."

"Some of us didn't sleep all the way up here in the car, unlike the two of you."

Elliot smiles, and her hand, once again, goes to the bump. Suddenly, she grabs one of my hands and places it where hers was. "She's kicking again."

I take a moment, just to feel that pressure under my hand that never fails to amaze me. "She?"

Elliot shrugs. "I don't know," she says. "Just a feeling."

Then it goes silent. For a while, I just feel the movements of the baby. I'm almost drifting off to sleep when Elliot shifts next to me.

"Hey," she sooths. "Hey, go back to sleep. I'm going to take a walk while you sleep."

"I'm okay." I sit back up in some pathetic form of protest again my own exhaustion.

"You're clearly tired. It's okay. Go to sleep. I'll find us somewhere to eat tonight. I need to call Alyssa anyway to check she's okay at Kate's.""

"Okay." I lean in and kiss Elliot.

"I'll see you when you wake up." Elliot stands up from the bed and walks towards the door.

"Hey, Elliot?"

She turns back around to face me.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

* * *

"How's it going, sleeping beauty?"

I open my eyes and see Elliot looking down at me. "Hey. What time is it?" I ask as I rub the sleep from my eyes.

"4.30."

"What? You're kidding, right?"

"Nope. It really is 4.30," Elliot laughs. "You've been asleep for the last six hours. And _you_ say _my_ sleeping is bad."

"God. You could've woken me."

"I thought about it," Elliot says. "But then I figured that you must be really tired if you're sleeping so long."

"Thank you," I sincerely respond. "Man, I'm not going to sleep tonight."

Then, a pensive look spreads across Elliot's face. "Actually… you've seemed a lot more tired than usual lately." She pauses. "JD. Is… is everything okay?"

"What? Of course it is," I answer. "I guess I've just been tired from work."

"Okay." She doesn't look completely reassured, though. "Anyway, while I was out walking I found this nice little restaurant in town. I thought that maybe we could go there tonight?"

"Sure." I then begin to register the taste in my own mouth. "I'm gonna go brush my teeth."

Pulling a disgusted face, Elliot adds with a little laugh, "Yes. Please do."

* * *

It's 2am.

As predicted, I can't sleep. And this is after eating far too much at the restaurant and taking a long walk after it. Elliot, on the other hand, crashed out the second her head hit the pillow.

"Elliot?"

Yep. She's definitely asleep. Excellent. As I've done so many times before, I put my hand on her bump and feel the baby kick underneath.

"Hey, little baby. It'll be good when we can actually give you a real name, huh? Mom thinks you're gonna be a girl, but I'm not sure. Honestly, it doesn't really matter to me or your mommy what you are, just as long as you're happy and healthy. That's all that matters to us. Uncle Turk and Aunt Carla have a slight bet going on about it, but that's them. And plus, we had a bet running when Carla was pregnant with Izzy. You're going to love Turk, Carla and Izzy.

And of course, you're going to love Mommy. You will. And she loves you so, _so_ much already. And so do I. I love you more than I ever thought it was possible. How can you love someone who's not even born yet so much? I don't really understand it. We can't wait to meet you, you know.

Mom, I know she's going to be a brilliant mom to you. She's kind, she's caring. She's amazing, and I –"

"JD?" Elliot's sleepy voice asks. "You awake?"

I stay silent for a few minutes, while Elliot seems to look around for a second or two before going to sleep again. Once I'm sure she's asleep:

"Okay, so what was I saying?"

* * *

In the morning, Elliot stirs awake, just as I'm pouring her a cup of tea.

"Morning," I say, passing the white plastic hotel cup over to her.

"Thanks." Elliot takes a sip of her tea. "JD, can I ask you something? Last night… I woke up and I could've sworn I heard you having a long one-sided conversation with the baby. And then when I spoke to you… it seemed like you were asleep. Did I just dream that up?"

I pause. "Yeah. You must've."

* * *

Later on this morning, Elliot and I decide to go on the trip that the hotel organises to one of the other nearby lakes. We're on the coach to get there.

"How're you feeling?" I whisper to Elliot, who has her head resting on my shoulder.

A shake of the head suffices as an answer.

Unfortunately, the bus is travelling on an extremely windy road. And when I saw windy: I've been on Waltzers at the carnival that have turned less times than this road. Although we've only been travelling for less than ten minutes, Elliot's stomach is churning. The pallor of her face is a real giveaway to that.

The tour guide is going on about some of the attractions of the area and some facts about the place. Neither of us is particularly listening though. Elliot is concentrating on keeping a hold of her breakfast, while I'm trying (and failing miserably) to make Elliot feel even slightly better.

"Did we bring any –" Before Elliot has a chance to complete her sentence, she turns a shade of green and looks back at me with panic in her eyes.

"Hey, could you stop the bus?" I yell up to the driver, before quickly following Elliot off the bus.

Thankfully, Elliot and her fairly strong gag reflex manage to hold out until she's completely off the bus and tucked into the side of the road, where, as expected, her breakfast makes an unfortunate reappearance.

As Elliot coughs and splutters, I kneel down beside her and rub her back and brush a strand of hair from her face. "There we go." I know that, realistically, I'm not making Elliot feel any better, but it's better than doing nothing.

A few long minutes later, it seems that Elliot's stomach has stopped attacking her. Although still pale, her colour is beginning to return. She sighs heavily. "Way to ruin a trip, huh?"

"Don't be ridiculous. How're you feeling now?"

"Not great. Do we have any water?" Elliot takes a swig out of the bottle I hand her, but she doesn't gulp it down. Instead, she chooses to rinse out her mouth before spitting the water back out. "God. I don't normally get car sick."

"This road is really windy. Even I was feeling a bit queasy."

Elliot frowns. "I don't think I could stay on the bus without throwing up again."

"We're not too far from the hotel. We could take walk back to the hotel and chill out there if you wanted?"

"Yeah, I'd like that."

"Okay. I'll be back in a minute." I walk around to the other side to of the bus. "Look," I say to the driver, "we're gonna walk back to the hotel. Sorry about this."

"Don't worry about it. Take care of her."

"I will."

Once the bus pulls away again, I go back to Elliot. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah." Elliot sighs.

I wrap an arm around her as we being to walk up the road.

* * *

The slow walk back to the hotel takes about an hour. We were walking really slowly. Once we got back to the hotel, Elliot cleaned herself up a bit and since she's feeling better we decided to go down to the little café by the lake that has tables outside, which is where we are now.

Elliot looks over the lake as she takes a sip of her water. "You know, the other day at work, Turk was trying to teach me all the Wiggles songs."

"He tried that with me too. Did he try to convince you to go to a Wiggles concert in a few months too?"

"Yeah. But I used the excuse of 'I'll be too busy looking after a one-month-old.' What was your excuse?"

"I, um, didn't think of one quickly enough."

"What?" Elliot says, holding back laughter. "You agreed to go to a Wiggles concert?"

"Sort of, yeah."

Elliot's suppressed laugh breaks out into a full-blown guffaw, complete with the laugh snort. "Oh my god. You realise you're going to look like the creepy loner at the Wiggles concert?"

"No I won't. I'll be with Turk, Carla and Izzy."

"Turk, Carla and Izzy: family. You: weird hanger-oner without a kid."

"Okay, so I'll take our kid."

"Yeah, because a tiny little four-week-old will _really_ appreciate being taken into a loud concert hall surrounded by a million people," she sarcastically responds.

"Yeah, I know. I was kidding. Anyway, Turk knows I won't have time to go. Because I'll be looking after the two of you."

"That is true," Elliot smiles. Then she sighs. "We have so much to do. So much to get ready."

"Yeah. We have to buy everything, get everything ready for the baby. But we can't do much of that until we move into the new house."

"And that's only three weeks until the baby comes. Wow. Stress. Everything's going to change so much."

"Do you think we're going to be ready for this?"

"Does anyone ever feel ready for this?" Elliot answers. "You know, I don't think anyone feels ready until that moment when you first hold your baby in your arms." She looks round at me. "We'll be okay." She reaches over the table and takes a hold of my hand.

"I think that somehow, Elliot, we're going to be better than 'okay.'"

"I hope so."

* * *

For our last day here, we chose to do nothing. That's right, nothing. The sun was shining and it was really warm so we took a rug (okay, when I say a rug, I really mean we took a couple of the hotel towels and made a makeshift rug), laid it out on the grass beside the lake and sat there for most of the day. It was nice. It was relaxing and we spoke about everything from possible baby names to whose family would be called first when the baby's born and whether or not Dr Cox and Dr Kelso would make a good sitcom couple.

We're leaving in the morning. And, as I've said before, it's not the best idea to disturb Elliot while she's packing, even if there aren't a lot of things to pack. There's something I have to do, anyway. But first.

"Are you sure you don't want me to help?" I ask Elliot.

In contrast to the night before we left, Elliot's disposition is cheery as she packs. "No, it's okay," she smiles at me. "Actually, you could maybe walk into town to get some munchies for the car ride home?"

"That was going to be my next suggestion. There's something I need to look for anyway."

"What're you looking for?" She asks, just a hint of curiosity in her voice.

"Just some kind of souvenir."

Elliot looks sceptical. "Like… a fridge magnet?"

"Yeah, maybe. I'll see what I can find."

"Oh, okay. See you when you get back."

I begin to walk towards the door, but as I reach Elliot, I stop, and kiss her cheek.

* * *

It was almost closing time when the man walked in. Adam Blackwell, the store's owner, noted his unfamiliar quirkiness before making his way over to him. "Can I help you, sir?"

"I hope so," the customer replied, before introducing himself. "I've emailed a few times about –"

"Ah yes, the engagement ring."

As soon as the customer had given his name, the bell of realisation began ringing in Adam Blackwell's head. Adam recalled the first message that had been sent to him. The customer explained that he'd seen a ring in a jewellery store owned by a Russell Blackwell closer to home, which had been far out of his price range. Russell Blackwell had told the customer that his cousin, who also owned a jewellery store, would likely have something similar that would be more within his price range. The customer had described the ring he'd seen and, as luck would have it, Adam did have something similar within budget.

Adam had emailed photos of that ring to the man standing in front of him and the customer had replied by giving a date that he'd arrive to see the ring in person. That was apparently today.

"I'll just get it," Adam Blackwell said. "It's through the back."

A minute or so later, Adam returned to the main area of his shop. In his hand was a little box that contained a white gold ring with a single diamond.

"Here it is."

The customer took the box from him and opened it, to inspect its contents closely.

Five minutes passed before the storeowner spoke again to ask the customer what he thought.

When the customer first began to speak, his voice caught in his throat. "That's… that's the one."

"Excellent," The jeweller grinned, thankful for another successful sale.

* * *

When I walk back into the hotel, everything is mostly tidy. The clothes that'll be worn tomorrow are folded in a pile on the chair in the room, the bags sitting under the table. Elliot is lying in bed, her clean hair tied back loosely, reading her book. She glances up at me.

"Hey. You were gone a while," she states. "I was just about to send out a search party for you."

"Sorry. I had to go to four different stores before I could find a jar of peppers for you." I had the jar over to her.

"Yum. Thanks." A few seconds later (after devouring so many of the peppers I don't know how her mouth isn't on fire) Elliot asks, "So did you find what you were looking for?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I did."

"Good." Elliot put the bookmark into her book and sets it down. "I've had a really fun weekend."

"So did I."

"Thank you for bringing us here. But I have to ask, why here?"

I look at Elliot. "Why not?"

* * *

It's about an hour into the journey home. Elliot – unlike the journey here – is still awake and we're playing Twenty Questions."

"Are you a TV show?" Elliot asks.

"Yes."

"Are you about doctors?"

"Yeah."

"Are you _Grey's Anatomy?"_

I blink and pause. "Damn it. How did you get that so quickly?"

"Because it was ridiculously easy. C'mon, we watch it together in our pyjamas every week!"

"Well played. Okay, your go. Are you… food?"

"Yes."

"Are you jalapeno peppers?"

"Oh, come on! How did you get that so quickly?"

With a grin on my face, I respond. "Because they've been one of your ridiculously random craving you've had for the last few months. And because three weeks ago you made me go to the store at midnight to buy you more jars because you'd ran out. And because you're holding on to a jar of them just now."

"Well played," Elliot responds, a playful glare aimed in my direction. "I guess we just know each other too well."

I laugh. "The other day," I begin, "when you asked me if you'd heard me talking to the baby. I lied."

"What?"

"Sometimes when you're sleeping, I talk to the baby. And I've never told you about it because… and I know this sounds ridiculous… but I've always felt as if that was my time with the baby. You know, it was _just_ my time. And I really love having that little time while you're asleep to, in a way, bond with our child a bit more. I didn't tell you before because I didn't want to lose that time. And that's why I've seemed a bit more tired lately."

"JD, that's… that's really sweet," Elliot quietly says. "That's… so… What do you guys talk about?"

"Anything, really. Like… what happened that day. Or, something else I've been thinking of. And sometimes I just tell the baby how much Mommy and Daddy love them."

Elliot smiles. "Mommy and Daddy. Wow."

"Yeah."

The contemplative silence ends a few minutes later when Elliot says, "Twenty questions?"

"Okay. Are you a person?"

"Yeah."

"Are you…"

---


	27. My Test

**AN:** Hiya! Thanks for all the reviews of the previous chapters. Hope you like this one! :D**

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**My Test**

Elliot is turning the calendar pages as I walk into the living room. She sighs.

"What is it?"

"I was just counting," she wistfully answers. "I only have six weeks left to work. That's scary."

"No kidding. What are you going to do for the four weeks before the baby's born?"

"Uh, _sleep,"_ Elliot laughs. "A lot. Well, that and pack boxes. That'll suck. Oh, and did you remember that we have to go to the Christening rehearsal with Turk and Carla on Friday?"

"I do now."

Izzy's Christening is this Sunday. Since Turk and Carla asked us to be her godparents, Elliot and I have to go to the church with them to find out what we have to do in the service.

"The Christening is on Sunday. This is Wednesday, which means I now only have four days to find an outfit," Elliot says, more to herself than everything else. "Fantastic."

You're probably wondering why Elliot has left it so late to find something to wear. I asked her the same thing yesterday night when she said something about having no idea what to wear. Her response was that because the baby was growing so quickly and unpredictably, she didn't want to buy something too early in case it didn't fit her by the time of the Christening and she'd have to rush to hunt down an outfit again anyway.

"Aren't you going shopping with Carla tonight?"

"Yeah," scoffs Elliot. "But trying to find any outfit that doesn't make me look like a beached whale at this point? It's a suicide mission."

"You don't look like a beached whale," I say, wrapping my arms around Elliot's waist and resting my hands on the front of the bump and my chin on her shoulder. "You're pregnant. You look beautiful."

Giving me a sideways glance, a little smile just twitching at the corners of her mouth, Elliot shakes her head before kissing me. When the moment is over, Elliot – still in my grasp – turns around and says: "So, uh, your outfit. Is it good?"

"It's good," I respond. "Suit."

"Good. I like you in a suit."

"Really?"

"Mmhmm."

Elliot and I kiss once again, but this kiss is deeper than the last.

"Whoa. Okay. PDA alert."

The kiss broken, but the embrace not, Elliot turns her head in Alyssa's direction. "Shouldn't you be at school already?"

"Nah," Alyssa answers, as she jostles her school bag further onto her shoulder. "Free period first thing, so I only need to leave just now." She's walking towards the door, but suddenly turns back. "Could I see the calendar please?"

I pass it over to Alyssa, who goes to stand at the table. As she looks at the calendar, she mumbles to herself before slightly more loudly saying: "Five days late? That's odd."

"What's five days late?" Elliot asks.

"You order a CD or something?"

With a pensively confused look across her face, Alyssa lifts her gaze from the calendar. "What? Oh, right, yeah I ordered a CD. Let's go with that…" After handing the calendar back, she says: "Okay, I have to go now. Bye." With that, Alyssa leaves the apartment.

"I guess we should think about going to work." Elliot moves to take a step away, but she doesn't get very far. "JD, let go of me."

"I don't think so."

As soon as Elliot turns around to face me, I lock my lips on hers.

Elliot sighs. "JD we have to… go to… work."

"We can be late."

"No we can't."

I'd be more convinced if I wasn't taking off her jacket and Elliot wasn't the one taking the first step further into the apartment towards the bedroom.

* * *

Yawn. School can be such a snooze sometimes. More specifically, Physics can be such a snooze. I like science (well, biology and chemistry), but there's only so much I can hear about waves without wanting to throw myself out of the window, just to have something else to do. And to make things worse, my normal boredom relief isn't here.

Normally Kate and I would spend the hour lesson gossiping and talking about the random rubbish we watched on television the night before – basically anything but physics. But, Kate has a singing lesson along in music. Lucky biatch. She isn't missing much. The teacher has just been going over some things we need to revise for a test we have next week. Which, to be honest, I think is fairly redundant considering the final is in a couple of weeks and we're all revising for it anyway. My teacher uses the excuse that she wants to know that we are actually revising. Yeah, she doesn't trust us.

I glance up at the clock. Oh, for the love of god. It's barely half way through the lesson. Somebody, please break the monotony. As if she's read my mind, Caitlyn – sitting to my right – raises her hand. Thank you, Caitlyn.

Once the teacher acknowledges her, Caitlyn asks: "When is this test?"

Good point, we haven't actually been told.

"Well," the teacher beings, "we'll have revision lessons on Thursday and Monday, and then the test the morning after."

_Morning after._

**_"Lys… we didn't use…"_**

"… _**crap. Okay… um… I'll go to the pharmacy tomorrow morning… and I'll take the morning after pill."**_

I didn't take the morning after pill.

Oh crap.

"Alyssa." Caitlyn taps me on the arm. "Are you alright? The colour just drained from your face."

"Yeah. I'm-I'm-I'm _fine._"

Oh crap.

* * *

Never has a class gone more slowly. And I was the first one to get out of there. I need to find Kate, which is why, instead of going to the dining hall where everyone else is, I rush along to the music department. Maybe I'll find her leaving her singing lesson before she goes to the hall.

"Kate!" I see her walking out of the practice rooms.

She turns around quickly. "Hey. What's up?"

"I need to talk to you and I need to talk to you, like, _now_."

The smile that she previously wore disappears. "Lys, are you okay?"

"No."

"What's wrong?"

"Not here."

"Okay. Study room. Nobody'll be in there." Once we're in the study room, and she's closed the door, Kate, in a completely humourless tone, repeats the question. "What's wrong?"

"So you remember at your party how you walked in on Michael and me?"

"Remember it?" Kate says with sarcasm. "The disturbing image is burned into my brain!"

"Seriously, Kate, not the time. Okay, so I said I was going to take the morning after pill and I didn't because I couldn't remember anything about Saturday night on Sunday morning."

"Okay."

"And my period is three days late."

Kate's eyebrows are really furrowed. "O…kay."

"Do you _really_ not see where I'm going with this?"

"Yeah, I do. Holy crap, Alyssa. You think you're _pregnant?_"

"I don't know! I don't know. But maybe." I pace around the room, and end up putting my hands on my head. "Oh my god."

"Have you taken a test or anything?"

"No; I only remembered half an hour ago!"

"Have you… have you said anything to Michael yet?"

"No," I reply. "What the hell would I even say? 'Hey, by the way, you know how you're supposed to be going to UCLA and I'm supposed to be going to Harvard later this year?'"

"Lys," I vaguely hear Kate say.

"'Well, there might be a slight problem with that.'"

"Lys!"

"'I might be up the damn spout!'"

"Say what now?"

"Frick." I turn around slowly and see Michael standing looking at me, jaw dropped. Then I glance to Kate. "You could've freaking warned me!"

"I tried!" Kate responds, sounding offended.

"Can we just get back to the issue here?"

"Yeah, Alyssa," Michael says, "the issue?"

I sigh. "I might – actually _we_ might – have a problem. I _might_ be pregnant."

"Yeah, I sort of got that!"

"Then why did you even ask?"

Kate stands in between us. "Okay, snapping at each other," she says, "_not_ helping! You don't know that Alyssa's pregnant yet so let's all calm down." Kate turns to face me, as I drag a seat out from under the table and sit down. "Lys, a missed period doesn't necessarily automatically mean pregnancy. Okay, remember yesterday you were saying how stressed out you were between studying for exams and what's going on with your dad and everything else? Well, stress can cause it too."

"Yeah, and the fact that I had unprotected sex three weeks ago?"

"Well, then, you hope to God that it's just coincidence."

"Yeah. But what if it's not?"

The bell to signal the end of break rings loudly in contrast to the quiet of the room, acting like an answer to Michael's question.

Kate frowns, as she looks between the two of us. "Cross that bridge if and when you come to it."

* * *

It's about eight on Wednesday night when Elliot returns from shopping with Carla.

"Hey," I say, as she walks into the living room, carrying a couple of bags. "You get something then?

"Yeah," Elliot grins. "I got a whole freaking outfit – shoes and everything." She lays the bag down at the table, and glances to Alyssa, who is sitting at the table with some work in front of her.

Elliot says 'hi' to her, but Alyssa doesn't seem to register that she's even been spoken to. She just seems to be starting into oblivion.

"Lys," Elliot says again. "Lys!"

That seems to snap Alyssa out of her reverie. "What?" She says.

"Are you alright?" Elliot asks. "You were zoned out there and you had a really worried look on your face."

"What?" Alyssa still has that same look on her face. "No, I'm fine. It's just…" For a second or two, Alyssa seems to be thinking about what she's about to say. "It's just with the finals coming up, I'm a bit stressed out." Alyssa stands up, and starts gathering up her things.

"Okay," Elliot says, although I don't think she's entirely convinced. "Well, if you need any help, just talk to us, okay?"

A serious and almost… _apologetic_ look washes across the teenager's face. "Thanks," she says, before turning around and walking towards her room.

"Strange." Elliot moves towards the couch, where I am. "Has she been like that all night?"

I nod. "I sure don't miss exam stress."

Elliot frowns. "Hmm. Doesn't just seem like exam stress to me."

* * *

Thursday break time.

I'm sitting outside on the grassy hill, mostly because I just don't feel like going into the hall again. I'm just… thinking.

My thoughts are interrupted when Kate sits down next to me.

"Any luck?" She quietly asks.

"Nope. Day six… no luck."

"It could still start, you know."

I smile just slightly. "Thanks for the optimism. I appreciate it."

"Aren't you going to eat something?"

"I'm too nervous to eat."

Kate pulls a face. "You know, if you are… _you know_, you should probably eat something."

"Fine." I reluctantly take an orange – which I took from home – out of my bag and begin peeling it. "What I keep thinking… is… my aunt Elliot and JD have done so much for me since I came here. My aunt took me in when she really didn't need to. I mean… if they really wanted to, she could have just sent me back to Connecticut and made me live with my grandparents. And then with everything else they have going on… they've done so much for me when they really didn't need to. I owe them so much and _this_ is how I repay them?"

"I doubt they'd see it that way."

"How else would they see it? I'm…. I'm up the creek without a goddamn paddle."

"You don't know that yet."

"Yeah," I nod, "but I don't know I'm not."

* * *

Over the past few months, I've discovered a new hobby of sorts: cooking. Not that I often get the time for it, but when I do, I sort of find that chopping up vegetables and potatoes or whatever it is can be quite therapeutic and relaxing. Oh, and it can also be good way to let out any rage you might feel. Of course, you have to be careful that you don't accidentally get one of you fingers because, y'know, that _hurts!_ Not that I've ever done it or anything. I'm not _that_ stupid. Just… people have told me.

You buying this? Didn't think so… I've managed to nearly chop my fingers off a disturbing amount of times. There's a reason I didn't become a surgeon.

As I begin to bowl up the soup I made (hey, I didn't say I was a great cook, okay?), I hear the front door open and close.

"Is the whole damn world against me today?!" Elliot growls with frustration, as she steps through to the kitchen. "The soup smells good," she adds, smelling the air.

"Thanks. What happened?"

"I was at the supermarket, which I did not know had been redesigned, so I spent forty-five minutes trying to find the damn bread." Elliot vents. "Then after that I ran into Carolanne from the Lamaze class."

"Which one is she again? Wait, let me think… Dark hair. Annoying. Never shuts up?"

"That's the one," Elliot hisses. "So you can immediately understand why that pissed me off. For ten minutes she went on about her hair appointment. I was like 'Don't care. Trying to get home…' Anyway. I got caught in the world's longest queue, by which point I'm ready to tear someone's eyes out."

I begin to move out of the kitchen, carrying the soup bowls.

Still continuing her explanation, Elliot walks out too. "This, after a god awful day at work. My interns would not listen to a word I said. One intern – I had to fix his IVs three times. Mrs Dixon coded twice. Oh, and my new admit's family kept stopping me any time I was remotely near to their room to ask question, after question, after question, after question, after question. For god's sake, he had appendicitis. How many times do I need to explain what's going to happen?"

"That sucks, Elliot."

"You know, the more I think about it… the next six weeks can't pass quick enough."

* * *

It's Friday morning. School closes in two hours, and then I will go to the pharmacy and buy a test. And I'll go to that pharmacy I went to the last time, because nobody I know goes there, which really limits the chance of anybody seeing me there. Then, I'll go home where nobody else - at least nobody that I don't want to find out about this – will be, take the test, get it over and done with and then move away from this.

Unless, of course…

I'm sitting in the hall today, because, even though I would like to be sitting outside on my own and trying to figure what the hell I'm going to, my friends have started to notice that I'm – in their words – acting weird. And they keep asking me if I'm okay and if they don't stop, I'm going to end up snapping and blurting out something that I really don't want to.

"So is everybody still up for going to the restaurant tonight?" Madison – one of my other friends – says.

Damn. I completely forgot about that. Which is hardly surprising considering I haven't exactly been thinking of much else other than what the in the hell is going to happen.

I've barely slept in the last two nights either. I'm too nervous. That butterflies feeling – it just won't go away.

You're probably wondering why I haven't taken a damn pregnancy test before now. Well, I don't want anyone to find out about this – not unless, you know, they have to. Which means I haven't been able to take one at home because there has always been somebody in. And taking a test at school – are you _kidding_ me?

The other people at the table with me say their agreement to being there to night. And then everybody seems to be looking at me.

"I don't know. I'll see."

My friends look at me dejectedly.

"How come?" one of them asks. "You were really up for it last week."

Yeah, that was last week, when life was simple. This is a whole other time. "Look, there's something I need to do after school… and it depends how that goes whether I'll be able to make it or not."

"You could still go, though," Madison resounds. "Even if you're gonna be late, we won't mind."

You'd think when they know that I'm sort of on a short straw – even if they don't know why – they'd just take my first answer. "It's more a case of depending on how what I have to do goes, I might feel differently about going. Because if what I have to do goes the way I'm hoping it doesn't but how I'm thinking it will, I really will not be up for going out tonight." I can feel myself started to freak out, even more than I already have been since Wednesday.

Kate looks at me, as if to say calm down. Then she says: "Just drop it, guys. If she can't go, she can't go. Leave it at that."

"C'mon Lys, you've got to come," Madison says. "It's our group's thing; all going out together at least once a month. So will you be there?"

Madison, you really are pissing me off. "I don't know." I don't know anything.

"Please, Lys?"

"Oh, for god sake, will you just leave it?!" I snap, before hurriedly walking away from the table and going outside, where I wanted to go in the first place. But I don't walk up to he hill where I've been sitting the last few days. To be honest, I'm not really sure where I'm going. I'm just walking. When I hear footsteps close behind me, I spin around.

"Lys, are you alright?" Michael asks, as he catches up to me. He wasn't at the table originally because he was in Tech or somewhere else finishing off work. "You just stormed past me."

I didn't even notice he was there.

"Are you okay?"

No. "I can't take it anymore!" I can feel my eyes just starting to nip because of the tears that are starting to fill them. "I can't take any more of this damned uncertainty."

Michael doesn't actually say anything. Instead, he just looks at me closely, before putting his arms around me and letting me cry into his sweater.

"Whatever happens," he whispers, "it'll be okay."

"Yeah?" I hiccup. "I wish I could believe you."

* * *

Oh my god, I can't believe I'm here again.

This pharmacy isn't any different to how it was the last time I was here just over six months ago. Everything's laid out exactly the same. The only difference is that this time, I'm not dressed in a fairy costume, and I'm not buying a pregnancy test for somebody else.

The quicker I can get out of here, the better. I really don't want to be here.

I pick up a test, before heading to the counter and – Oh damn. It's the same old woman that served me the last time I was here. I try to keep my head down at the counter, but it's useless.

"Hey, I remember you," she says. "You're the girl who looked like a marshmallow."

"I was a fairy."

"Yeah, and you were buying one of these. You'd think you'd learn after last time."

I accidentally scoff.

"Or let me guess. It's _still_ not for you?"

"Look, could you just let me pay, for god sakes?" I snap. "Thank you," I say, once the woman gives me back my change and the plastic bag. I begin to walk out of the pharmacy.

* * *

Pissing on a stick – not an experience I ever wish to repeat. Nor do I ever want to repeat the experience of the next two minutes. I open the bathroom door, and step out, leaving the test in the bathroom. I really don't want to stare at the thing for the two minutes, which I will do if I stay in the same room.

"Have you set the timer?" I ask Kate, when I step back though to the living room where she and Michael are sitting.

Michael's here for obvious reasons. Kate's acting as the much-needed moral support.

"Yep," Kate says, resting her phone on the table.

As I nervously exhale, I look around the room. There's got to be something in this room to keep me occupied for the next two minutes, right? Wrong… So instead I start pacing around the room.

It's so quiet in here that all I can here is breathing and my own freaking footsteps, which is not helping with the nerves.

"How long now?" The fear is clear in my voice.

Kate glances down that the cell phone-turned-stopwatch. "One minute, fifty seconds."

Only ten seconds have passed? Are you _kidding_ me? I start pacing again. There is no worse sound in the world than the sound of my own footsteps thumping on the ground. Or at least I can't think of one just now.

During my nervous pacing, I glance at Michael repeatedly. He looks so anxious too. It's hardly surprising. He's a lot more stagnant with his nerves than I am. He just sits on the arm of the sofa, looking out of the living room window. He's not staring vacantly though. It's like… he's actually _looking _at his concern.

At the risk of sounding like a broken record: "How long now?"

"A minute, ten seconds."

I stand still. Okay, that's progress, I guess. And back to the pacing I go.

It's quiet. Too quiet.

Pace. Pace. Pace.

"So, what are we all eating at the restaurant tonight?" I blurt, because it's the first thing that springs to my mind other than the continuous, monotonous screaming that I've been putting up with recently.

Kate is the first to answer. She gets that the conversation is meant to be silence breaking, because she doesn't give me the confused look I was expecting. "I think I'm gonna have the chicken," she nods.

"Yeah? Which sauce?"

"Barbecue."

"You know, I heard the Chinese sauce is good," Michael adds.

The quiet starts to return, but before it has a chance to really set in – "I think I'm gonna get the pizza."

"Which kind?" Michael asks me.

"I think the Margharita. But then I had that the last time we all went out. So maybe I'll get the four cheese. But then it'll end up being _too_ cheesy – what with it being four cheese and all – and I'll only eat half of it, so it really would be a waste of money. So maybe I'll get the pepperoni. Although they always put a tonne of onion of the pizza for no apparent reason, so maybe I won't get the pizza at all then. Maybe I'll get the spaghetti. Oh, or maybe –"

Whatever I'm saying (I stopped paying attention to myself about three words in) is interrupted by the alarm emitting from Kate's phone, telling us that the two minutes is up.

"Oh, god." The words leave my mouth quickly, like I haven't even had to think about saying them. "I can do this. I can do this." With large intake of breath (the courage has to come from somewhere, why can't it come from the air?), I begin my short walk back to the bathroom. Well, the walk should've been short, but it feels like it has taken me an eternity.

And now, I'm standing at the brink. I'm standing on the threshold of the bathroom. I can see the test sitting there, but it seems more like it's staring at me. My knees are shaking. In spite of this, I motion to take a step. My foot just about rises from the ground. I'm just standing there one foot over the precipice, ready to take the fall into reality. "I can't do it!" Disappointed in myself for that – and for so many other things, really – I walk back into the living room. "I can't look." I was crying this morning because I couldn't handle anymore of the unknown, but ironically _now_ I don't want to know. What the hell is wrong with me?

Without having to say anything, Kate stands from her seat, and walks through to the bathroom. And she walks straight in – not hovering at the door like I was.

I'm not sure how it happens – whether I walked over to him or he walked over to me or we both walked over to each other – but I find myself hugging Michael.

And we're still waiting on Kate to walk back out of the bathroom. I don't know whether to read that as a good sign or a bad sign.

Almost as if telepathy was a form of communication, Kate emerges from the room. "Well, there's good news and bad news," she says. I can't tell from her tone if she's being sarcastic or serious. "The good news is you're not pregnant. The bad news is I'm going to use up all your soap because I touched the thing."

"Go… go back to the first point," I quietly say.

"First point? Oh, right. You're not pregnant. And I'll be back in like… an hour once I sterilise my hands." Kate disappears.

You'd think there'd be some comment of… relief or happiness or I don't know, some other emotion, but there isn't. There's just shocked silence. Don't me wrong; you can sense that relief that we're both feeling. Maybe it's that only now that we both know what the outcome is, the whole gravity of what-could've-been is actually hitting us. I'm relieved, yes, but I'm not happy, because I know that it could've just as easily gone the other way and it's only chance that it's worked out the way that I wanted it to. Nothing but luck.

Michael and I don't talk for a while. It's not uncomfortable. It's just… quiet. The atmosphere is too serious.

"Well," I quietly sigh, just because it's the only thing I can think to do.

"We dodged a bullet."

I simply nod.

* * *

The church that Izzy will be christened in is really lovely. It's so bright and airy, and the sun shining in through the stain glass windows gives the room a nice orange colour, like the colour of a sunset.

We all sit at the front of the church, where the pew rows are at a ninety-degree angle to each other, waiting for the minister to come to talk to us, who Elliot and I have yet to meet.

Izzy is getting restless, sitting on Carla's knee. She looks around, curiously eyeing up everything around her. Then, she grumbles and pulls one of those faces that only babies can get away with.

"What is it, sweetie?" Carla asks the little girl, just looking over her shoulder.

Izzy struggles to get away from Carla, trying to slide herself off of her mom's knee.

"Okay then, little one."

As soon as Carla lets her two feet touch the ground, Izzy is off like a shot, running as fast as her little legs can take her across the church. When she reaches the wall at the other side, she stops and turns around, a cheeky little grin on her face. God, she's cute. Izzy starts running again, but instead of running to Turk or Carla, she runs straight towards me, and I lift her up above my head. Izzy's giggle fills the entire church.

As I lower Izzy back to the ground, I glance to Elliot, who is watching with a weird look on her face. I can't really describe it, but she's smiling.

"What it is?" I quietly ask her.

With the same smile still on her face, Elliot replies, "You're really good with her."

While we all continue to watch Izzy as she explores the church, the loud footsteps of the minister walk up the aisle. Carla calls Izzy back to her, and all the adults stand up.

The minister is an older man – maybe in his early fifties. He almost reminds me of Ted, with his bald shiny head. There's one major difference, however. He seems happy. "Hello, I'm Reverend Povey," he smiles, shakes Turk's hand and then Carla's. "Ah, and these must be the godparents," he says, looking between Elliot and me. He holds out his hand for me to shake.

I oblige. "John Dorian."

Elliot also introduces herself and shakes the reverend's hand, after which the minister smiles.

"And I see that there's another little one on the way too."

With a mischievous glint in her eyes, Elliot glances to me.

Oh god, she's going to do it, isn't she?

"No."

Turk and Carla exchange confused glances, before looking to us, but that isn't the funny part.

"Oh," the reverend's jaw drops. "I, um, I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Elliot nervously says. "I was kidding."

Credit where credit's due, Rev. Povey takes the joke as it was meant and begins laughing.

Turk, rolling his eyes but laughing at the same, says, "Yeah, we're sorry about her, by the way."

"So when is the little one due?"

"Ten weeks," Elliot grins.

"Ah, so it's pretty close. And will this little one be getting christened too?"

Elliot and I look at each other.

"Actually, we haven't really spoken about that, yet," I answer.

"Oh, so…" the minister looks between the two of us. "I had just assumed you weren't married because of the different surnames."

"I.. uh, we…"

"Aren't married," Elliot concludes.

The smile falls from the reverend's face. "Oh. Well, um… if you'd all like to follow me where we can discuss arrangements for Isabella's Christening."

The minister walks down the corridor, while Turk and Carla throw us amused and sadistic expressions.

"That was awkward," I quietly mumble to Elliot.

* * *

So, Michael and I haven't really spoken since… that. To be honest, we're both still reeling from the whole thing that neither of us really knew what to say. It wasn't awkward silence though; I will say that. I was also concentrating on driving. Because I've only recently passed my driving test, I'm not a brilliantly confident driver yet so all my concentration goes into what I'm doing.

After everything, I didn't particularly feel like going out tonight. I could've done with just chilling out. Or sleeping. Sleeping would have been fun. But Kate convinced me with logic of 'It'll be fun to hang out with everybody' and 'You need to chillax, dude'. I'm pretty sure she's said that too me once before and look where it got me. The argument that actually got me was 'We're already late (which we were by the time I was persuaded to go, but as it turned out, so was everybody else) and you have a car.' She was kidding though. I think.

My reluctance to come out aside, it has turned to be a really good night. Just talking and laughing with everyone has just cheered everything up. There is just one little problem, however.

It is a thousand degrees in that freaking restaurant! The air conditioning is apparently broken, hence the temperature. The good news is though, that the manager is taking forty percent off the total bill for everyone in the restaurant. And by that I mean, the two tables that didn't just about turn and leave as soon as they walked in. We were tempted to, but the offer of such a big discount for a ten-person table was just too good an offer to pass up, even if we are going out in groups every few minutes, just to cool off. Which is exactly where I am now. There are three of us out just now. In truth, it's not _that_ much cooler out here than it is in there, but at least you get some air.

Kate is rummaging in her bag.

"What are you looking for?" Madison asks her.

"My keys," she responds. "I can't find them. And I'm sure I brought them out with me. I must've, because I had to lock the door when I left." She looks up at me. "Maybe I left them at yours."

"You went to Alyssa's?" Madison asks.

"Yeah," I respond, as Kate continues to search through her bag. "But I don't remember you ever having your keys out at mine."

Kate gives a sarcastic laugh. "To be fair Lys, you probably weren't paying attention to much else other than your pacing around your apartment."

"True."

"Why were you pacing?"

I shake my head to answer Madison's question. "Don't ask."

Just at the same time, Michael walks out of the restaurant. "Hey. The waiter just brought over some more drinks." When he speaks, he's looking right at me.

"Awesome." Kate and Madison head towards the door, but I don't.

Kate stops. "Aren't you guys coming in?"

"We'll be in in a minute," I respond.

Kate hovers for a second, before walking back into the restaurant. Once she does, Michael walks over and stands next to where I am, leaning with my back against the restaurant wall.

"Crazy day," he mutters.

"No kidding. If that… if that test has been positive… what the hell would we have done?"

Michael exhales loudly. "I don't know. Panic?"

"And cry some," I add.

"My parents would've killed me if I had gotten you… you know."

"_Your_ parents?" I say. "That would only have been if my family hadn't found you first. You've met my grandfather, right? There's a reason my aunt _still_ hasn't told him."

"Seriously?"

"Yep." There are a few seconds of silence and then I sigh. "We have _got_ to be more careful."

"We can't have this happening again."

The silence returns.

"You want to go back inside?" I say, a minute later.

Michael nods. As we make the really short walk back to the restaurant door, Michael puts his arm around my shoulders.

* * *

Every few minutes in the car ride home, Elliot and I crumbled into laughter. It's quite difficult to drive and laugh. And we're still laughing as we walk back into the apartment.

"I just keep picturing the reverend's face over and over again in my head," Elliot says, giggling slightly at the end. "Priceless."

"It's one of those moments that you just wish you'd had a camera at," I add as I take off my shoes.

Elliot walks into the kitchen, and I hear her flicking the kettle on. "That reminds me. We need to take the camera on Sunday."

"Yeah. Is there any cough syrup in the medicine cupboard?" My throat has been sore all day and I really can't be getting a cold now. Turk and Carla would not be amused.

A few seconds later, I hear the cupboard door closing and Elliot answering. "Nope, sorry. There might still be some in the bathroom cabinet from when we all had the flu."

That's probably a safe bet. We both kept remembering to take the medicine just before brushing our teeth, so to save having to walk back through to the kitchen (because we're just that lazy), Elliot left a bottle of cough syrup in the bathroom cabinet.

Damn. "Nope. None there. I'll walk around to the pharmacy and buy some more." Just as I close the cabinet door, something catches my eye. There's a box lying on the floor. I don't recognise it, so I kneel down to pick it up. "Pregnancy test?" I mutter, reading the writing on the box.

When I walk back through, carrying the box, I see that Elliot is in the living room, sitting on the couch and sipping at her drink.

"Hot blackcurrant," she says, nodding towards the other cup sitting on the coffee table. "Enjoy. It might make your throat feel better." Her eyes drift to the box in my hand. "What's that?"

I pass the box to her.

Elliot raises her eyebrows after reading the writing on it. "Well, it's obviously not mine, and I'm hoping it's not yours."

"Which means…" I trail off, and Elliot and I both look at the closed door of Alyssa's room.

As a shocked look spreads across Elliot's face, she says, "That can't be good."

* * *

Sigh. Tonight ended up being such a laugh. After being in such a panic, it was great just to have a laugh. Or it was until the subject of the party at Kate's was raised (but not the consequences, thank god) and then we all ended up taking vows of sobriety on napkins. It was weird, but I plan on sticking to it nonetheless.

Kate and Michael are coming back to mine for a little while. Just because. Well, why not? Plus, Kate still needs to find her house key.

"So, if your key isn't here, will you be able to get in?" Michael asks Kate as we all step onto the landing of the apartment floor.

"Yeah," she answers with a sigh. "My parents will be in. They'll just be pissed because I lost my key."

"That'll suck," I say, as I open the door to the apartment. I walk in – Michael and Kate following me – and I see my aunt sitting on the couch. "Hey. How was the Christening thing?"

"It was okay," she answers, looking over the top of the couch. "How was your day?" She asks, but I get the feeling she's trying to imply something. "Anything you want to tell me?"

"Uh, no."

My aunt has a serious look on her face, and she looks between Michael and me. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah…"

The next response is my aunt lifting a box over the top of the couch. "Are you _really_ sure?"

I recognise the box instantly. It's the pregnancy test box. Crap. "Um…"

"I think we need to be having a little chat," Elliot says.

Kate and Michael are still standing behind me.

"I guess we should, um, go," Kate nervously says.

I hear Kate and Michael turning around but they don't get very far.

"Yeah, I don't think so," JD says. How did he manage that? "You're not going anywhere."

"Even me?" Kate asks.

"No, Kate, you're free to go. But Michael, my friend, you'll be staying here."

Oh, dear god.

* * *

I think the words 'deer caught in headlights' are the only applicable words to describe the looks on both Alyssa's and Michael's faces.

"Now that Kate's gone," I say, "I think the two of you should sit down."

As the make their way to the table, Alyssa says to Michael: "Sure. The actual test I throw away, but I leave the _box _to be found. Could I be any more of an idiot?"

I assume the question was rhetorical. Elliot on the other hand…

"I'll answer that on for you Alyssa, shall I? No, you really couldn't be more of an idiot. God. What the hell is this, Alyssa? Is this just some sort of teenage rebellion you're going through? Or are you _trying_ to test my patience? First the drinking and now this?"

"If you want to get technical about it, this is still to do with the drinking…"

Alyssa's statement is answered by an outright glare from Elliot, which causes Alyssa to look right down at the table.

"And you." Elliot snaps her fingers at Michael. "What are you planning to do?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Aunt Elliot, I-" Alyssa is interrupted.

"Well, are you going to be there for Alyssa? Are you gonna be there for the kid? By the way, what are you two planning on doing about the kid? Are you keeping it? What are you doing?"

"Um… nothing."

"What?"

"I'd imagine we're going to do nothing because I'm not pregnant," Alyssa says. "But can I just say that, considering the source, the support I would have got is _overwhelming_."

Elliot lowers her eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

"As someone who is unexpectedly pregnant herself, it seems a little hypocritical that you're yelling at me."

"Alyssa, there is a massive difference between me being thirty and you being seventeen."

"Yeah. But you were still pissed at me for doing something that you'd done," Alyssa responds. "That's hypocritical. By the way, I have to ask: How quickly did you jump to the conclusion that I was pregnant?"

There's no response from Elliot.

"Which brings me to my next question. If I had been pregnant, what would you have said to me?"

"What I might or might not have said is irrelevant," Elliot says, after another few minutes of silence. Her fists are clenched and she's obviously trying to keep herself calm. "The point is that your behaviour recently- "

Alyssa rolls her eyes. "My behaviour recently? For god sake, I got came home drunk _once, _for which I've _already _apologised profusely. Seriously. Any time I do the slightest thing wrong, is that going to be held over my head?"

"Hey! Watch your tone! How about remembering who the adult is here?"

"Adult, or hypocrite?"

And then the argument basically explodes. Elliot says one thing, Alyssa says another and the pace of talking (read: shouting) is so quick that the other two of us in the room can't actually keep up with what is being said.

"You think this is bad," I say to a dumbfounded Michael, who is staring at the scene in front of him. "Imagine what she'll do to you if you ever do anything to hurt Alyssa again. You have been warned."

* * *

That was hellish. It really was. I don't blame my aunt for being angry with me. I'd be angry with me. I _am _angry with myself. What the hell have I been playing at recently? And all that answering back? Seriously?

I hate arguments.

After all the crap rained down and Michael went home (evidently scared witless of my aunt), I went to my room to try to study, but instead I've been thinking more about what a jackass I've been lately. Self-loathing sucks.

I glance at the clock on my nightstand. It's nearly ten-thirty and I'm feeling pretty tired. It's been a long day. I think I'll give up on the studying for tonight. None of it's going into my brain anyway.

There's a knock at my bedroom door.

"Come in?"

My aunt walks into my room and closes the door behind her. "Here's what's going to happen," she says. "On Monday, you're going to make an appointment with the family doctor, and you're going to ask to be prescribed the contraceptive pill because you're in an adult relationship and don't want to get pregnant. Okay?"

"Okay," I respond.

My aunt walks further into my room and takes a seat on my bed, facing me. "Look, I don't want to patronise you by getting up on my high horse like I did earlier, because I know I'm hardly the greatest role model here." My aunt sighs. "But the last month with the drinking and with this… it seems out of character for you, which worries me. But I also know you haven't exactly had it easy for the last few months, which shouldn't be an excuse, but things do affect your behaviour sometimes."

"I'm sorry. And for all the argument and back talk earlier… I shouldn't have said what I did. I'm sorry. "

"I know you are. And I'm sorry for some of the things I said too." Aunt Elliot pauses for a second. "I just… Alyssa, I just don't want to see you screw up your life when there's so much you've still got to do. So… can you promise me that you're going to be more careful from now on?"

"Yeah. I promise."

"Okay then." My aunt stands up and walks towards the door.

"Aunt Elliot?" When she turns around, I continue. "Thanks for… everything, really. You've basically become the mom I've never really had. So… thanks."

My aunt smiles at me. "You're welcome, honey."

---


	28. My Mocha Cub's Christening

AN: Hey! Thanks for reading and reviewing all the previous chapters. :) I really appreciate it.

* * *

**My Mocha Cub's Christening**

_**JD**  
_  
I think the last time I was at a real church service was… I can't remember the last time I was at a normal Sunday service. But really, this isn't just a normal Sunday service. It's Izzy's Christening, and I'm her godfather.

I'm strangely nervous about this today. I didn't think I would be, but at some moment it occurred to me that it's a huge responsibility that Turk and Carla have put upon me by trusting me to be their daughter's godfather. That scared me. Then it occurred to me how much responsibility I'm facing. Not that it hadn't before, but that's scary too. In fact, it's paralysingly terrifying, and I think it always will be.

Since I'm godfather, I'm sitting at the front of the church with Turk. Carla, Izzy and Elliot are in the 'waiting room' so to speak (I can't remember what it's called), waiting for the point that they come into the main church.

"I hope Izzy's settled," Turk quietly says, as the minister continues his sermon. "She was being fussy before we left."

Turk is obviously nervous too. Well, it is his little girl's christening, after all. People always seem to say that the christening is one of the big events in a baby's life, along with first words, first steps and first birthday. And the funny thing is, when Carla and Izzy and Elliot are walking in to the main church, I'm picturing this as the other way around. I'm seeing Carla as the godmother, and Elliot being the one carrying our baby up here to be christened. In the same moment, I see Elliot walking down the aisle in a clean white wedding dress. You know, the future is looking good.

Izzy looks really beautiful in her christening dress. Like a little angel. She's grinning at the attention, but like the other day at the meeting, she's itching to get away from Carla and run around. The more she wriggles, the more difficult it is for Carla to keep a hold of her.

With a roll of her eyes, Carla puts Izzy's feet on the ground and the little girl takes off immediately. Izzy's smart though, because she' doesn't run far. She just runs to where Elliot is sitting and looks up at her curiously. Elliot pulls a funny face which makes Izzy laugh loudly, disturbing the peace of the church.

"Well," the minister says, looking down at Izzy. "I see that someone has cheered up."

The congregation laugh (they all heard Izzy screaming earlier too), and the minister continues delivering his service.

Izzy is still laughing at Elliot's funny faces when she raises her arms, asking to be picked up. When Elliot does pick Izzy up and sit her on her knee, Izzy sits there quite contented and calmly.

"You're a strange little girl, aren't you Iz?" Elliot says to her, while looking at Carla and Turk, who are both shaking their heads and laughing.

Another hymn is sung, and the minister speaks some more, but that's not really what I'm paying attention to. I'm watching Elliot somehow manage to occupy Izzy. Elliot bounces her on her knee just slightly and looking down at her every few minutes to see how she is. Each time, Izzy tries to grab one of Elliot's long blonde curls. I wonder for a second whether our child will have be dark haired like me or have Elliot's blonde hair.

The minister calls upon the four of us (and Izzy) to stand up. At this point, Elliot hands Izzy back to Carla, who then hands Izzy over to the minister.

He speaks about how children are loved and cherished, and how they need the love and support of families in order to grow happily. Then he talks for a while about the miracle of life.

For all the time the minister is talking, Izzy remains completely calm. She grins as she looks out over the church. I glance at Turk and Carla, who are looking at Izzy so proudly, and I think I can even see a few little tears in their eyes. Happy tears, obviously.

The minister then asks Turk and Carla if they promise to teach Isabella right from wrong, to love her and to raise her right. Turk and Carla (for lack of a better word) agree.

The thing is, everybody in here who knows Turk and Carla already knows that they're brilliant parents to Izzy. She's their world. And I know that if I was going to trust anybody with my own child, it would be Turk and Carla.

Then the minister speaks to Elliot and me. He asks us if we will help Turk and Carla to teach Izzy the right way.

I don't really need to tell you what our answer to that is. Turk and Carla aren't just friends, they're family. I know them more than I know my blood family. Between the four of us we've been through so much together. We've basically grown up together. The funny thing is, whenever I try looking into the future, I see Turk, Carla and Izzy there too.

A few more hymns are sung after Izzy is officially christened (complete with the cold Holy Water poured over her head which did not amuse Izzy). At the end of the service, people start filing out of the church.

I glance to Elliot, who is now rummaging through her bag for something.

"What are you looking for?" I ask her quietly.

Out of her bag, Elliot pulls a pack of tissues and hands them to Carla. "Here," she says. "You could use them."

"Thanks, Elliot," Carla responds.

After that, hugs are exchanged between the four of us.

"So you guys are coming to the hall and then back to ours, right?"

We both nod. As we follow them out of the door, I hear Carla say to Turk, "Remind me to get some photos of Izzy in her christening dress with JD and Elliot."

* * *

_**Alyssa**_

This is how sad my life is. I actually left the christening – a social event – early to study. That's how pathetic life is right now. Exams… _suck. _That's really all I've got to say on that.

Although studying isn't so bad when you have company. Since we're sitting nearly all the same exams, Kate comes here to study to I go to her house. Kate is here right now.

I'm so glad top get out of my christening outfit. For starters, I'm not really a dressy kind of girl. And secondly, my feet were killing me in those shoes. They were wedge heels I borrowed from aunt because she'd hardly worn them, and for the record, I will _never_ wear them again. I've re-banished them to the back of the closet. The closet that is packed full of crap that was chucked in there from when someone was coming to look at the apartment. Apparently they want to rent it or something.

Back at the kitchen table, I notice that in the time it's taken me to get changed and find a space somewhere – anywhere – in the closet for those damn shoes, Kate has managed to get all the textbooks and paper and pens and everything else studious sorted.

"Wow. You're organised," I say, taking a seat at the table.

"Yeah, well," Kate shrugs. "So I thought we'd start with biology revision before going on to maths. Is that cool with you?"

"Yeah. For maths could we go over all those equations we did last week because I did not get those."

"Yeah. And do you have –"

The conversation is interrupted by and almighty clatter and crash, coming from my aunt and JD's room. For some reason, Kate and I seem to stare in the direction of the sound.

"What in holy hell was that?" Kate asks.

"I have no idea." I blink.

After I go through to my aunt's room, I discover that somehow or other, the wardrobes have managed to empty themselves. Like… _everything_ has fallen out of them to create a jumble of the junk that my aunt and JD were trying to hide in the first place.

"Houston," I derisively say, "we have a problem."

Kate walks over to me, with a curious but apprehensive look on her face. "What is it?" Then she glances down at the mess on the floor. "Oh."

"Yeah." I nod slowly, and I'm just looking down at all the crap on the floor. I'm having one of those moments where I can't believe that I'm going to have to clear this all up. I'm just delaying the inevitable, really. "Help me clear all this up," I say quickly to Kate, before I begin chucking everything back in the closet in no particular order or fashion.

Kate's looking at me with a really sarcastic and perplexed look on her face. "Uh… I think that's sort of how this problem occurred in the first place."

"Yeah," I sigh. "But I have absolutely no idea where any of this crap really goes."

Kate nods her head. "Fair enough." She then begins to help me by throwing things in to the closet too.

Although it probably isn't the _best_ way of doing this, it seems to be the quickest. A few minutes later, and nearly everything is back in the closet, where it should be.

Well, sort of.

I pick up another bundle, but it's really more than I can keep a hold of. I go to toss the bundle into the closet, but as I do a few things fall from it. I kneel down to see what I've dropped. An old sweater, socks and… that's weird. I find a little silver box, like a jewellery box. I know they say that curiosity killed the cat, but I am neither a cat, nor do I think that curiosity will really kill me. I open the lid of the jewellery box to see -

"Oh, my god."

"What?"

I stand up. "I think I just found something that I don't think anybody was supposed to."

Kate looks at the ring box that I'm holding up. "No kidding!"

"You know how you get those moments in life where you want to squee like a little fangirl?"

"Let me guess," Kate says. "This is one of them?"

"Correct. Okay, so I need to hide this again…"

* * *

_**JD**_

After the Christening and the little reception after it, Elliot and I go back to Turk and Carla's. After all the attention and excitement of today, Izzy is shattered, so Carla is putting her down to sleep. Turk and I are in the living room, while Elliot is raiding Turk and Carla's kitchen, looking for food.

"Izzy did really well today," I say. "I would've expected her to get cranky towards the end of the day or I thought she might have cried when the minister was putting the water over her."

"Yeah," Turk grins. "They always find a way to surprise you." He then looks directly at me. "You'll learn."

The sound of footsteps enters the living room. I turn my head and see Elliot walking back into the living room, carrying a large bag of potato chips.

"Mind if I tear into these?" She asks Turk.

"Knock yourself out," Turk answers.

As if by coincidence, just as Elliot sits down next to me and opens the bag of chips, Carla returns to the living room, carrying a large box. "That's Izzy down."

Through a mouthful of salt and vinegar, Elliot asks the obvious question: "What's in the box?"

Carla raises an eyebrow. "Elliot, would you please do me just one favour?"

"What's that?" Elliot says after gulping down her chips.

"_Please_ teach your child not to talk with their mouth full," Carla says. "Anyway, I was clearing things out the other day and I came across all these old photos and I thought you might want to take a look." She hands an album each to Elliot and me.

I open the album I've been given. There are many photos from different occasions from our younger years. I recognise many of the photos of Turk and me from our college years, and then our med school years. And some more of the photographs – the ones that have Elliot and Carla in them too – I recognise from our intern year.

I'm still flicking through the photos when I come across a photo of just Elliot and me. It's from our intern year; probably only a few weeks after we first met. We're in our scrubs, so we must have just been at work. We're sitting on a grassy field somewhere, looking up at the camera. Elliot's hair is thick and straight, and I still have that goofy deer-in-headlights look on me face. We look so young.

It's strange. I've seen all of these photos before and I remember when they were taken, but they seem like a million years ago. I know that all of us aren't the same people that were in those photos. The people in those photos were just kids. It seems like so long between where we were and where we all are now.

"Doesn't it seem a lot longer since these photos were taken than it actually was?"

Apparently Turk is a mind reader.

Elliot sighs heavily. "God, yeah. You know, we were tidying up last week too and I came across this photo album I had from med school and it was so strange looking through it. Back then I thought I'd be in medicine forever and here I am, leaving in a month."

Carla's eyes widen in shock. "It's _that_ soon? God."

Elliot nods. "Yeah."

"It's going to be so weird you not being around the hospital every day," Turk adds. "Hey, do you remember that time we had to deal with those identical twins. We lost the letter their dad left them, so we spent so long making a fake one."

Elliot starts laughing. "Find a woman to find a man so that he might find you a woman. Carla, remember that time we spread the rumour that that new nurse was really a dude."

After a minute of discussing past rumours they spread, and realising how bitchy it made them sound, Carla sighs. "Who am I going to spread rumours with when you leave? Who am I going to gossip with?"

"Oh, don't talk like that. You'll make me cry. And we can still gossip. You can call me any time. It's not like I'm dying; I'm just giving up work."

"I know, but it won't be the same."

Turk shifts in his seat slightly. "Elliot, aren't you scared about giving it all up? Aren't you worried you'll miss it?"

After a moment of thinking, Elliot answers. "No, not really. I'd give it all up next week if I could. And I know that you guys don't get that because medicine was always what you wanted to do. But for me, I just sort of fell into it. It wasn't what I always wanted to do, at least not for the right reasons. Don't get me wrong, now I can't imagine myself ever having done anything different, but I really have absolutely no qualms about leaving medicine."

"That's great, Elliot," Turk answers. "I'm happy for you."

"Thanks. And you know what one of the best things about leaving is? I will never have to deal with annoying interns again."

Elliot's statement is met with a glare.

"You all hate me now, don't you?"

"No, of course not," we all answer in some form or another.

"Guys," Elliot says, raising an eyebrow.

"Okay, maybe a little," corrects Turk. "Especially since my interns are a bunch of irritating little suck ups who think they know it all when they really don't. You know one of them tried to undermine my treatment plan the other day?"

"One of my interns picked up the wrong chart and attempted to tell a female patient that she had testicular cancer," I add.

"I constantly have to redo bad IVs that interns screw up," Carla scoffs. "Although, Elliot, your interns are pretty good."

"It's because they're scared witless of me after the time I nearly killed one of them simply for not answering a question correctly."

"That was a bit harsh."

Elliot looks at me. "Well, yeah. But in my defence, I was in the middle of a pretty horrific mood swing, and if I hadn't taken it out on him then it would have been _you_."

"I should really thank that guy…."

"Where we ever that annoying when we were interns?" Turk asks.

Elliot and I both say no. Carla on the other hand:

"God, yes. Come on, all interns are as bad as each other. You three can only sit here now and bitch about them because you're so much older and wiser. And because nurses like me helped your asses through it."

"And we've never forgotten it, Carla. Thank you for all the help you've given us and will continue to give us over the years, whether we've asked for it or not," Elliot laughs. "You know you can't help yourself."

Carla frowns. "I know. And hey, thanks again for agreeing to be Izzy's godparents. It really means the world to us and there's nobody else we'd rather have as her godparents than you two." Before we really get a chance to say anything else, Carla stands up. "More drinks?"

* * *

_**JD  
**_

After an afternoon of swapping stories about past days, we return home about 7.30.  
Elliot walks into the apartment before me. "Hey," she says to Alyssa, who's sitting at the table with a textbook open in front of her. "Did you get a lot done?"

"Yeah," Alyssa answers. "I got a lot of revision notes written. How was the rest of the Christening?"

"It was great. We had a photo album session back at Turk and Carla's. And I hate to cut this conversation short, but I have been craving jalapenos all day." She walks into the kitchen, just as I take a seat on the couch.

A second or two later, I hear Alyssa speak. "Oops."

I turn my head to look at her. "What is it."

She holds up her textbook. "This is Kate's," Alyssa explains. "So she must have my textbook. I'll go call and tell her."

As Alyssa stands up to (I assume) go to her room to call her friend, Elliot walks back into the living room.

"We have no jalapenos," Elliot snarls. "So I'm going to go to store and get some. Does anybody else want anything?"

"No, I'm good. Thanks anyway." With that Alyssa continues with her original task of walking to her room.

"No thanks, babe. Do you want me to come with you?"

Elliot shakes her head to say 'no'. "Besides, I'll only be a few minutes. See you when I get back." Elliot leaves the apartment.

A few minutes later, the noise of a door opening breaks my conversation from the magazine I was reading.

"Damn," Alyssa says, walking back into the living room. "Kate's house phone is _engaged._ Now I can't tell her that she left her textbook here." Her tone is weird. She's speaking really slowly, as if she's hinting at something. "Oh, I know what I'll do. I'll _ring_ her cell phone. You know, because one line is _engaged. _So I'll _ring _the other one. You know. I'll _ring_ one number because of the _engagement_ of the other one…"

I immediately drop what I'm holding. "How the hell do you know about that?"

"Because you _suck_ at hiding stuff!" Alyssa sarcastically responds. "The _closet? _The only way that could have been lamer is if you'd just the engagement ring sitting on the freaking table!"

"Yeah, I know," I concede. "But in my defence, I didn't know where else to hide it without anyone finding out because they'd never keep their mouths shut."

Alyssa raises an eyebrow. "Your locker at work?"

"Please, the Janitor breaks into my locker on a daily basis."

Alyssa opens her mouth to speak, but then hesitates as if she's trying to figure out if I'm joking. "Okay then," she eventually says. "What about at Turk and Carla's?"

"And I've already made my point about people not shutting up," is my sarcastic response. "Which, by the way…"

"Yeah, I won't say anything," Alyssa answers. Then a suspicious look crosses her face. "And neither will Kate."

"Thank yo- wait, how does Kate know?"

Alyssa shrugs. "She was here when the wardrobe encountered some technical difficulties," she explains. "But she won't say anything, I swear."

"Thanks."

"Okay, now that that's out of the way," Alyssa continues, as she sits on the arms of the couch, "I have to ask this question: When are you going to do it? When are you going to propose to her?"

I open my mouth to speak before hesitating. If I tell Alyssa, I run the serious risk that somehow or other, Elliot will find out before the event. But on the other hand, an opinion could be good. What the hell. Even if I don't say anything, she'll just bug me about it until I snap and kill her. " We both have the night off next Monday. Elliot doesn't know it yet, but I've booked a table at her favourite restaurant. It's where we went on our first date."

"Awww."

"Yeah. And then after we've had something to eat, I'm going to suggest a walk through the part of the park she loves and then… I'm just going to propose."

"Oh my god," Alyssa mumbles. "Do you know what you're going to say?"

"I have… no idea. I want it to be perfect, you know? And everything I think of just sounds… well, _crap."_"Well, you still have nearly a week to figure something out," Alyssa reassuringly offers.

"For the length of time I've been thinking about this, one last week is hardly going to  
make a difference."

Alyssa grins. "Wow. You two are going to be, like, so happy together. Well, you already, so that's sort of redundant. But you will be. Although I feel I _should_ warn you that Reids are genetically programmed to go Bridezilla. Seriously, it's scary. You should start preparing yourself for that. Like, _now_."

"Bridezilla Reid can't be any more difficult to cope with than Pregnant Elliot, and I've been doing just fine with that!"

"True," nods Alyssa. "Hey, the two of you made a baby, _then_ bought a house and _then_ you're going to get married?" she adds. "Way to screw with the normal order of things!"

"Elliot and I never did things normally. It fits, really." I pause. "Hey, do you think I should call Elliot's dad and do the whole asking his permission thing?"

"Probably not," Alyssa says, while fervently shaking her head. "That'll just piss him off, considering you _already_ knocked up his daughter."

"Good to know."

"So… if you're marrying my aunt, does that mean I can call you my uncle?"

"By all means, go ahead, because I've sort of already been calling you my niece."

"Fair enough," Alyssa laughs.

It's quiet for a minute or two. "You're not going to tell anyone, right?"

"Tell anyone what?"

"Thank you."


	29. My Fairytale Ending

AN: Hey guys! I just wanted to say thanks for all the great reviews you've been leaving for this story. I really appreciate it, honestly.

The only thing you really need to be aware of here is that all the chunks in italics are what Dr Cox is saying. It'll make more sense when you read them. The document uploader was also doing some weird things with the formatting. I've tried correcting it, but when I correct one thing something else goes weird. So I apologise for that. :)

Hope you like! And please let me know what you think! :)

* * *

My Fairytale Ending

_Dr Cox_

It's been a long day.

I'm a couple of hours later than I'd normally be, but by god, am I glad to be home. When I walk into the apartment, all is silent. I glance to the wall clock, and it suddenly occurs to me that, at 8.30pm, it's Jack's bedtime. With a sigh, I toss my jacket on to the couch, before making my way towards Jackie boy's room.

The room is dim when I walk into it, the lamp beside Jack's bed the only source of dim light. Jack, clad in his favourite _Ben 10 _pyjamas, is tucked safely under his covers. In fact, the only way I can tell what pyjamas he's wearing is because he has his arms resting over the covers.

"Dad!" He happily calls, his voice full of innocence.

"Hey, Jackie boy."

Sitting beside Jack, Jordan glares at me after glancing at her watch. "What time do you call this, Perry?" she snarls. "What happened? Did you suddenly discover you have girl parts and had to stop at the doctor to get it checked out? Seriously, why are you late?"

"I'll tell you later."

Jordan lowers her eyebrows at me. "Okay. Well, it's your night to tell him a story. So, you know, suck it up."

"Yeah, Dad!"

"Okay."

Jordan steps away from the bed, as I lie next to Jack.

"There was once a nurse, a sur-"

"Perry!" Jordan barks. "We've been over this. He's five. _No hospital stories._"

"Fine."

Jordan rolls her eyes at me before leaving the room.

"Okay, Jackie boy, where were we…"

---

_You remember I told you the story with the two-headed Turla, the Princess and the Village Idiot, right? Well, this story comes after that one. But there are a few things you need to know first._

_A lot of things were the same in Sacred Heartia. The dark lord Oslek still put the fear of God into all the residents of Sacred Heartia. The Giant was still useless at keeping the village clean. And the Turla were still their annoying two-headed self._

_But some things had changed in Sacred Heartia too._

_The Princess's niece had moved from the Kingdom of Cutconnectia to Sacred Heartia to live with her aunt. Why? Well, Jackie, The Sacred Heartia High School for future Princess's was just thee best school in all of the land, so her parents sent her to live with her aunt so she could train there._

_Oh, and remember how I told you last time about the Princess and the Village Idiot and their 'almost kiss'? Well, since then, they had both realised their idiocy and were now a couple. And more importantly, they were going to have a baby. Where do babies come from? Jack, we talked about this. When two people love each other very much, they close their eyes and make a wish. Remember?_

_Anyway, that's all you need to know for now._

_The day started out like any other_…

---

**_JD_**

Today's going to be a long day.

Today's the day that I have to go to the conference to pre-meds about what it's like to be a doctor. It's the cloud to my silver lining of getting a weekend off to go away with Elliot. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Right now, just the thought of spending the day talking to pre-meds is enough to make me want to stay in bed all day.

No such luck.

The belligerent shriek of the alarm startles me out of my slight reverie, telling me that it's time to get up. I whack the 'off' button of the alarm with such force; I may well have cracked it. Oops. If I have, I'll buy a new alarm clock tomorrow. I could buy one today on my way home from the conference, but what difference does a day make?

I rub my eyes in an attempt to clear the last remnants of sleep from them. It's at this point I realise the Elliot isn't lying next to me, wearily complaining about the alarm as she would normally be. This puzzles me.

Listlessly (my body hasn't completely caught up with my mind yet), I make my way through to the main area of the apartment.

Sure enough, lying along the couch in the living room, reading a book, is Elliot.

"Hey," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "What are you doing up so early?"

Elliot frowns in reply. "I woke up at 4.30 feeling lousy. I couldn't get back to sleep again so I just got up. What time is it?"

"6.45."

"Is that all?" Elliot sighs, propping herself up on her right arm. "I thought it was later."

I head towards the kitchen. "Hey, do you want something to eat?" I call, as I take the toaster out of the cupboard.

There's no reply.

Assuming that Elliot didn't hear me (it's entirely possible, because I didn't speak too loudly), I move back through to the living room.

Unlike just a few moments ago, Elliot has just stood up from the couch and is turning to face me. "What did you say?"

"Breakfast. Want anything?"

Although she shakes her head to indicate no, Elliot still follows me to the kitchen, but I hear the shuffle of her feet suddenly stop. I turn back and notice that Elliot is holding onto one of the dining table chairs, with a really concentrated look covering her features.

"Elliot, are you alright?"

After a silence, the intense look on Elliot's face vanishes and she smiles at me. "Yeah."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. It's nothing. Just Braxton Hicks trying to kick my ass again. It'll go away in a little while. What time will you be back from the conference?"

I look at Elliot for a second before answering. "About 6-ish. Maybe later, depending on the traffic. Elliot, are you –"

Before I can complete my question, the shrill scream of the alarm clock sounds again. Damn it, I must've hit the snooze button instead of the off button. I step towards the kitchen door.

"Don't worry," Elliot smiles. "I'll deal with it." She stands on her tiptoes and quickly kisses my cheek before leaving the kitchen to chide the alarm.

* * *

_And so, after breakfast, the Village Idiot set about his task for the day: teaching other village idiots from all over the land – not just Sacred Heartia – how to be e-heven more colossal idiots than they already were. You see, Jackie, the Village Idiot of Sacred Heartia was theeee most colossal idiot of them all. There were no bigger idiots than the Sacred Heartia's Village Idiot. I mean, the Village Idiot of Sacred Heartia was world renowned for – Okay, I'm sorry. I just wanted to make sure that you were absolutely clear about how much of an idiot he was._

_A while later, and once the Village Idiot was gone, the Princess was still feeling sick so she decided that, just for today, she would forgo her royal assignments in favour of some much needed rest._

_Now, Jackie, I'll tell you a little bit about the Princess's niece. She looked a lot like her aunt. She had long curly hair that was the same golden colour as the Princess. Like her aunt, the Princess's niece intended to be a princess._

_The final exams of Sacred Heartia High School for Future Princesses were well under way…_

* * *

_**Alyssa**_

It's going to be a long day.

My last final – Chemistry – is on Monday. This is Saturday. And for the last few weeks my brain has gone to mush with everything for finals swirling around it. So you can see why I'm feeling a little bit on the stressed out side.

On a normal Saturday, I would be volunteering at the hospital. But because I really need to study to stop myself from going completely insane, I'm taking the day off to study instead.

My focus slides to the wall clock. 9.45. If I start studying at 10, I could study for eight hours maximum, then stop. That takes me to 6:00pm, which still gives me the whole evening to chill out. After eight hours studying, I get cranky, and that's never good for anyone. Trust me, I know from experience. As do Elliot and JD… oops.

"So everybody's meeting at the restaurant on Saturday?" I ask Kate through my cell phone, as I go to the kitchen.

About twenty minutes ago, Kate called ask something about a question she was doing on a past paper. Kate, God bless her soul, got herself up and ready at six this morning and started studying at seven so she could get a couple of hours in before going to the hospital. I wish I could do that – be able spend all day doing something other than studying; knowing that I've got an exam in a few days, but I just can't do it. I'd completely flip out. It's not that Kate's not going to study, but she's better at studying at night, while I'm better at studying during the day.

About the restaurant. Since everybody's finals are over by Friday, we thought it would be a good idea if we all go out to celebrate, because we're going to need it after this.

The problem is, with my friends, it takes us so damn long to organise anything, hence everything being arranged now.

"_Yeah,"_ Kate responds. Even though she's on the phone, she's still studying. I know this because I can hear the page of whatever book she has in front of her turning. _"Do you know if Madison is going to come with us or not? Because she still hasn't text me back."  
_  
"I don't know. She hasn't been in touch with me either," I reply, struggling to keep the phone secure with my head and shoulder as I put myself a glass of water. "But David was asking if it was cool if his cousin came with us because she'll be staying with him."

"Oh, yeah that'll be fine. I just want to know approximate numbers so I can make the reservation, especially with so many of us going."

"Well, maybe you could just assume the Madison is going to come along and then if she doesn't we just have one extra seat, no big deal."

I head back towards to my room but I have to cross via the living room. My aunt is lying on the couch. She took the day off sick. Is she wincing?

"Are you okay?" I ask, covering the mothpiece of the phone with my hand.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replies, not actually looking at me.

… Okay. I continue to my room. "By the by, have you done that Chemistry past paper? The 2004 one?" I ask Kate once she ends her explanation about the restaurant.

"_Not yet. I'm going to do it tonight after the hospital, I think."_

"By the way, beware of question six. It. Is. A _bitch_. Seriously. Questions that difficult should be illegal."

"_Thanks for the warning. So what was it you wanted my advice about?"_

"Yeah, that," I cringe. "My dad has asked me to go to this concert thing on Wednesday night. It's some classical thing and I really don't want to go. The dance recital is the next afternoon and I've missed enough rehearsals as it is because of finals. But we're finally getting along and… with the time… I feel really guilty about not going. How do I say no without feeling like feeling like a heartless bitch who doesn't want to spend time with her dying dad?"

Kate sighs ponderingly. _"First of all, you shouldn't feel like that. Your dad'll understand. I'm sure he will."_

"Yeah, I guess. I just feel bad."

"_You could even arrange to do something after the finals? You know, when life is calm and simple again. God, I can't wait for –"_

"Alyssa!"

"_Uh… I don't know who yelled," _Kate nervously mutters, "_but that did not sound healthy."_

"No, it didn't," I quietly reply. "Kate, can I call you back in like, ten minutes?"

_"Sure. Speak to you later." _The call clicks off.

I quickly leave my room after that and go into the living room. Aunt Elliot isn't on the couch. "Aunt Elliot, are you okay?"

"I… I need you to drive me to the hospital."

"Why?"

My aunt emerges from the bathroom looking chalk white, absolutely terrified. "I think I'm in labour."

That's not good.

* * *

_Yes, Jack, normally you would say 'Yay' when a baby is about to be born, but not this time. Why not? Well, the Princess's baby was being attacked by an evil monster – a monster that could only be fought after the baby was born. But this monster made the baby impatient, so it was trying to be born when it wasn't ready to be._

_You remember I told you that the Turla were joined for all eternity? Well, I forgot to tell you that in an emergency they could separate. And this was most definitely an emergency._

* * *

**Alyssa**

Holy crap.

Not the most coherent thought ever, but it's pretty much the only thought that's running through my head at the moment. And the whole time I was driving.

The whole drive here my aunt was panicking. Which, y'know, is understandable considering she's about to have a kid nine weeks early. Actually, I think there's be something wrong if she didn't panic. But, as selfish as it seems, it didn't make for easy driving. My hands were shaking while I was trying to do 90 miles-per-hour up the motorway.

Carla is in with my aunt and the obstetrician right.; My aunt called her from the car on the way. She tried calling JD, but being the idiot that he is, he has apparently turned his cell phone off. What a moron. She tried calling him twice before calling Carla.

I toss my bag over the maternity nurses' station, before walking around the side and sitting down at the phone. The head nurse up here said I could use the phone to try and call JD. Third time lucky?

'The person you are calling is unable to take you call at the moment.'

"Damn it." I put the phone back on the base unit.

Why do people switch their goddamn phones off? I could leave a voicemail, I suppose. But is 'your baby's about to be born nine weeks early' really the kind of news you want to hear off of a voicemail? And plus, Elliot already left a voicemail in the car, but all I think she said was 'Call when you get this message.' That was when everyone was expecting JD to call right back.

After I let out an anxious sigh, I pick the receiver back up from the base unit, and begin dialling again. As I wait for the line to connect, I out of the corner of my eye, I see Turk walking towards the nurses' station, a puzzled and worried look on his face.

"Please tell me that I didn't hear correctly when one of the scrub nurses said that Elliot had been admitted in labour."

I frown. "Unfortunately, yes. You did hear correctly."

"My god." Turk exhales heavily as he turns around to lean against the nurses' station. "I was really hoping I'd heard wrong. It's far too early." Turk pauses. "They must be panicking."

"Yeah. Elliot definitely is. Carla's in with her though. Maybe she'll get her to calm down."

Turk turns around to look at me with his eyebrows lowered. "Carla?" he asks. "Where the hell is JD?"

"And you just asked the million dollar question," I reply. "Okay, that was more sarcastic than I meant it to be. I'm sorry. Nobody can get a hold of him. He's been called four times in the last half-hour, but it goes straight on to voicemail."

"Isn't he at the conference thing?" Turk says. "His cell will probably be off for that."

"Son of a – Damn it. It would be today, wouldn't it? Freaking typical."

Turk nods in agreement. "If you try calling in half an hour or so, maybe JD's cell will be on again."

"It better be."

As if by chance, the obstetrician walks out of Aunt Elliot's room. Turk walks over to her.

"How's Elliot? What's going on?"

The obstetrician frowns. That can't be good. "She's seven centimetres dilated."

"Seven already?" I say. "How the hell?" I mutter.

"Can't you do something?" Turk asks. "It's far too early."

"It's too late to stop the labour. That baby's being born today. If I were you two, I'd make sure you got the father here. Sharpish."

Nothing else is said, before the obstetrician walks away.

"This is bad. This is very, very bad," I say. I start rapidly tapping my fingers against the nurses' station counter. "Say, what's the best way to get rid of a panic out before it becomes a full blown freak out?" I ask Turk.

"I'll try JD's cell again," Turk says. "You go walk over there and try to calm down."

Calm down? Easier said than done.

* * *

_Over the next while, the Princess's niece and the male Turla sent out many messenger eagles, each of them trying to track down the Village Idiot. Each time they'd wait with held breath, hoping beyond hope that one of them would bring the Idiot back. But… each time the messenger eagles returned empty handed._

_Meanwhile, The Princess was trying her damnedest to battle the Monster that was attacking her child, but she was disadvantaged. You see, Jack, this Monster was really, really nasty. Because while it was attacking the child, the Monster had the extra assault of also draining the life out of the Princess, so each time she took a swipe at the monster with her makeshift sword, the Monster would drain a little bit of life from the Princess._

_As well as feeling tired, the Princess was scared. Really, really scared. As much as the Turla and her niece were trying to help her, the one person that the Princess needed to help her defeat the monster wasn't there. The female Turla tried her best to keep the Princess calm. She would bring the Princess things to keep her strength up, try to second-guess the Monster's next movements and she would try to tell the Princess that everything was going to be okay._

_Like the Princess, Turla and her niece were scared. But they tried not to let the princess see this, or else it would give the Monster more power to attack._

_The Princess's niece paced back and forth, waiting for one more of the messenger eagles to return. In the distance, she could see the bird flying towards her, so she held out her arm for it to land on._

_When it did, the bird confirmed what she was dreading. There was still no word on the Village Idiot's whereabouts._

_After sending the bird to fly again, she went to give the news to the Princess._

* * *

**Alyssa**

So when you call someone again after half an hour, you expect to get answer, right? Wrong. Still no answer. And now I have to tell this to Elliot and Carla, and dear god this won't be good. I open the door quietly and hear the talking that's going on.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," Aunt Elliot repeats. "This can't be happening." Aunt Elliot (and I mean this in the un-nastiest way possible, really) looks terrible. She's chalk white still, covered in sweat, and I kid you not, I have never see anybody looking so terrified. "It's too early."

"Elliot, listen to me," Carla reassuringly says. "Everything is going to be okay. Try not to panic. The baby will be okay. And JD will be here soon." Carla turns her head to look at me. "Right?"

Damn. "Well… um…. Not exactly…"

Aunt Elliot glares at me. "What… the frick… are you talking about?"

"Well… there are still problems with trying to get a hold of him on his cell phone. It's um… switched… off." And let all hell rain down now.

"I am going to kill him!" Aunt Elliot screams. "I swear to god, Carla, I can't do this. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god."

"Elliot. Elliot, listen to me. You cannot panic," Carla instructs, taking a grip of my aunt's hand. "You can't panic. It's going to be okay. You're going to be okay. Alyssa and Turk will keep trying to call JD and I'm sure he'll be here as soon as possible. Right?"

Man, she can lie. "Yeah," I respond. "Hey, if you know where JD is giving the premed talk, we could try calling there."

Wincing, my aunt replies, "It's the one just out of town. Lincoln or Kennedy. I can't remember what it's called."

"Don't worry about it," I say. "I'll look it up. I'll be back as soon as I can with better news." I walk towards the door, but hear Carla's footsteps following me.

"Alyssa," she quietly says. "Try and get JD here as soon as possible, okay."

"This is extremely bad, isn't it?"

"Just… try to make sure he's here as soon as."

* * *

God bless Yellow Pages. There's a giant one conveniently hidden under the nurses' station. The silver lining: I managed to find phone numbers for both the Lincoln and Kennedy Conference Centres. The cloud: They're both out of town so it could be either of them. Well, first things first. I dial the number of the Lincoln Centre.

Ugh… do you know how annoying it is to hear the ringing sound on a phone when you're really desperate to get through to somewhere?

"Thank you for calling the Lincoln Conference Centre. We apologise that our reception area is closed at the moment, but it should reopen shortly. Alternatively, leave your name, number and enquiry and somebody will get back to you as soon as possible."

What could it hurt? "Hi. Um. My name is Alyssa Reid. I was just enquiring about a medical conference that I've been told was happening at the centre today. If somebody could please get back to me quickly… it's an emergency. My number is –" Cue stock cell phone number recital.

Well that was successful. And yes, that was sarcasm.

As I'm looking up the number for the Kennedy Conference Centre (numpty me forgot to write it down the first time I looked), Turk walks up to the nurses' station quickly.

"Any luck tracking down JD, yet?" he asks.

A shake of the head suffices as an answer.

"Damn," he curses. "Listen, I've been called to do an emergency surgery. If there's any update, get somebody to call down and let me know, okay?"

"Sure."

Turk hurries down the corridor.

On with the phone calling.

"Hello, Kennedy Conference centre. Amanda speaking, how can I help?"

"Hi. I was just wondering if there was some sort of medical conference going on today at the centre? There's not? Right, okay, thank you for your help."

Head in hands. The damn Lincoln Centre better call back soon or somebody's going to die.

* * *

Thing I've learned today: If you pace back and forth in a corridor, holding on to your cell phone as you wait for someone to call you back, you get weird looks. And dizzy. But to be fair, I have been walking back and forward for the last half hour, aside from the few times I've stopped by the nurses station to try calling JD's cell phone again. You guessed it, no answer yet. And you're probably wondering why I'm not using my own cell phone. The answer to that is I have a dollar fifty left on my cell phone and I would like to keep that in case I have to use it when there is no other phone I could use.

Oh, thank god. My cell phone is ringing. I don't recognise the number. "Hello?" I answer quickly.

_"Hello, is this Alyssa Reid?"_

"Yes. May I ask who is calling?"

"_It's Martin from the Lincoln Conference Centre. You left a message earlier regarding a medical conference of some kind?"_

"Yes," I reply.

_"I've checked through the system and unfortunately there is no medical conference taking place here today?"_

"There's not?" I question. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me."

_"Um… sorry?"_

"Oh my god," I mutter. "There's nothing at all going on? Not even a getting into college conference? Careers event? Anything?"

_"I'll check the system again."_

"Thank you." For the love of god, check the system quicker, would you?

_"There's a Christian Book Conference? Is that of any use?"_

"I highly doubt it," I reply sarcastically. Why the hell he thinks a book conference would help me when I'm looking for a medical one, I will never know. "Thanks for your help anyway." Hang up.

Words cannot describe how easily I could freak out right now. But I am not freaking out. I am not freaking out. I am not freaking out.

Oh, there's the OB who just walked out of my aunt's room. She's noticed me too.

"What's happening?" I ask when she reaches me.

"Eight centimetres," she replies. "The sooner you can get the baby's dad here, the better."

She walks away.

I am not freaking out. I am not freaking out.

* * *

_But the Monster worked in mysterious ways._

_Because what they didn't know was that earlier in the day, the Village Idiot had received a message to say that his class had been moved towns; and that when he sent a message to the Princess to tell her this, it had never arrived._

_It was all part of the Monster's evil plan to make the fight as tough as it could possibly be.  
_

* * *

I hate giving bad news. I really do. It makes me feel like I'm such an awful person.

Once again, I'm standing at the threshold of my aunt's hospital room looking in. It's been a few hours since the first time I walked in here, but the picture keeps getting worse and worse. Every time I come in here, my aunt looks more and more tired and terrified, if I'm being perfectly honest. But that isn't the shocking part.

What's worse is how Carla looks less valiant each time I walk in here. Because when Carla starts to crumble… you know something's bad. It's like… you rely on Carla to tell you that everything's going to be okay, and the more hollow those 'everything's going to be okay's become…

You know something is bad when you can see that even Carla is beginning to crumble.

I'm looking down at the ground.

"Lys?" I hear my aunt say.

Damn it. "I called Lincoln and Kennedy and neither of them have medical conferences on," I say, still looking down at the ground.

"Oh my god," Aunt Elliot says. "Oh my god."

Even Carla looks as if she's not sure what to say. She's silent for a few seconds. "It's going to be okay, Elliot." I don't think Carla even believes herself. She sure as hell doesn't look confident about it. "Don't panic. Just try to think. Can you remember where JD said he would be?"

Elliot shakes her head. She's crying. "I was sure it was Lincoln or Kennedy. I was sure. I checked it on the calendar this morning. Oh my god."

"It's okay, Elliot, we'll track him down." No offence to Carla, but you'd have to be really gullible to believe her right now. But, hey, I'm not going to be the pessimist here.

"Yeah," I agree (although not that convincingly). "I mean how many conference centres can there be around here? How about I just call each of them, ask if there's a medical conference going on and we'll track the idiot down in no time?"

"Just do whatever, please," My aunt sobs.

Carla looks at me. "You know what you gotta do."

"Yeah."

* * *

_Tracking down the Village Idiot would be a difficult task, especially for the Princess's niece alone. But, luckily for her, she had a friend who could help; another girl from the Sacred Heartia High School for Future Princesses…_

* * *

**Alyssa**

So what I asked the question, how many conference centres can there be around here? It turns out quite a few. Actually, more than I can count quickly. There are two pages of conference centres in the tiny writing. This is not going to go well. It'll take me about three hours easily to get through this list, and I'm guessing that's time that nobody really has.

"Alyssa, what are you doing here?" Somebody asks. I look up and see Kate walking towards me. "I thought you weren't in today. And what happened earlier?"

"You have no idea how glad I am to see you. Seriously. I need you to help me out big time here."

"Sure, but Lys, what's going on?"

"My aunt's having the baby," I bluntly reply. "And nobody can track down JD, so what I need you to do is help me call all these conference centres and ask if there's a medical conference going on there and if there is hand the phone back to me."

"My God," Kate mutters. "Okay, here's what we'll do. I'll start from the top of the list. You start from the bottom."

"Thank you."

* * *

_The two girls worked well together – sending out as many of the messenger birds as they could find and sent them to every neighbouring village, just in the off chance that they could track down the Village Idiot of Sacred Heartia._

_The mission was difficult and it seemed to bring no hope, no matter how diligently they worked._

_Except for that one bird out there in the distance…_

_

* * *

_

**Alyssa**

So… there's good news and there's bad news. The good news is that the Franklin Conference Centre has a medical conference going on. The bad news? Well, they have no list of names who is there thus no way of putting me through to JD to explain what's going on so he can get his sorry behind here; neither Kate nor I have any idea where the Franklin Centre is, and lastly, in the half hour it took us to call the Franklin Centre, my aunt is dilated eight centimetres, which I'm fairly sure means that the baby is going to be born relatively soon.

Aunt Elliot is hysterical. Really hysterical. Well, wouldn't you be if you were about to give birth two months early and your boyfriend was nowhere to be found? She's white as a sheet and looks shattered to say the least. And she's completely blaming herself for everything, which probably isn't what she should be worrying about right now.

"Carla, I should have come in earlier," she sobs (and I'm talking really sobbing here). "I should have come in earlier, when I first felt the pain, but I thought it was too early, I thought it was just Braxton Hicks."

"Elliot you can't blame yourself," Carla says. "You didn't know. You wouldn't think you were in labour. Why would you?"

"But I should have known, Carla. I should have known. And now everything's wrong. JD's not here. The baby is too early. And there's no way this baby's going to be one hundred percent healthy. Chances are my baby's not going to be healthy at all. It's too early. What if something happens to the baby Carla?"

"Hey, hey. Don't think like that," Carla soothingly (or at least an attempt at it) says.

"But it might. It might, Carla. My baby might die, Carla, at it's all going to be my fault."

Okay, screw this.

"What?" Carla snaps, as I turn and walk out of the room. So I wasn't aware I'd spoken aloud, but oh well.

I walk over to the nurses' station where Kate is still sitting at the computer and pick up my bag it.

"How's it going?" she concernedly asks.

"Do me a favour, would you, and Google and print directions to the Franklin Centre for me please?" I ask, rummaging through my bag.

"Why?"

I lift my car keys out of my bag and say, "Because I'm going to go and kick his ass myself."

Kate blinks, and then immediately gets to finding those directions, and I hear an angry voice from behind me.

"Alyssa Reid, what the hell was that?" Carla growls.

"It was me accidentally verbalising my thoughts."

"Yeah, I heard that! And so did your aunt. Do you have any idea how rude, how heartless that comment was? Do you have any idea –"

Carla is cut off my Kate, who hands me a sheet of paper. "There are the directions."

"What?" Carla says. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to the Franklin Centre to find JD because there clearly isn't enough time to be sitting about here, hoping to God that the next time somebody calls he answers the goddamn phone." I turn around, and briefly look down at the directions before hurrying out of here.

* * *

_It was a race against time._

_The Princess's niece ran quickly to the Sacred Heartia stables to retrieve her horse and then…_

_The horse, steered by the Princess's niece, burst out of the stables and headed towards the forest. The horse galloped faster than it had ever galloped before and although that made the Princess' nervous that she would fall off, she knew that there was no time to spare._

_While the horse galloped, one of the messenger eagles flew by and desperately tried to get the attention of the Princess's niece, but she was concentrating too much on not falling off of the horse to respond._

_At the horse's speed, the Princess's niece was getting closer and closer to the village of Frankville with every second._

_But unfortunately, this Monster had more than one way to attack…_

* * *

**Alyssa**

The traffic ahead of me is slowing, so I slow down too. I don't think anyone would really appreciate me crashing into the ass of another car. Really not what anybody needs today.

Jeez, how much is this traffic slowing down? Dear god, please don't stop completely. Please let there not have been an accident or a breakdown or any thing of that sort that is going to stop all the traffic.

I switch on the car radio, just in case there's any traffic report. Oh, here we go…

"There are reports coming in of an accident on the motorway, causing major delays between and tailbacks of about three miles.'

The traffic grinds to a halt.

Today of all goddamn days.

* * *

_It seemed that the monster that was attacking the Princess had other monster friends that were out to hamper the efforts of those trying to help the Princess. And unfortunately, there was no way for the Princess's niece to quickly defeat the monster that encompassed her and her horse, trapping them. All she could do was to fight it slowly, while trailing closer to Frankville._

_All the while, the Princess was growing weaker, the monster stronger, and the Princess' child more impatient._

_It took the Princess's niece a long time to break free from the monster that held her and her horse captive. But when she did, she somehow found the ability to make the horse gallop even faster than it had before their capture._

_They made good progress though the forest and before long, the Princess's niece had made it to Frankville. But this was unfamiliar territory, and it took her longer than she would have like to find a stable for her horse…_

* * *

**Alyssa**

Freaking Sod's Law. I hate Sod's Law. Sod's Law should curl up in a hole and die. Because Sod's Law stuck me in nose-to-tail crawling traffic for a freaking hour. An hour. Like there was really an hour to spare here.

That's me only now at the conference centre. And, because Sod's Law is such a freaking bitch, there were no parking spaces in front of the conference centre so I've had to drive all the way around to the multi-storey car park at the other end of the complex. Not amused. This is costing more time than there is to spare. And just to add fuel to the flames, there is a queue of four cars in front of me. I'm not even into the car park yet.

…

Okay now I am. And there's a sign that says 'Please Park On Level 7'. Level seven? Are you freaking kidding me!!! Seriously?

For the love of God…

So five minutes and seven storeys later, I'm dizzy, but parked. And waiting for an elevator. Which will not arrive no matter how many times I nearly batter the little button.

Okay, to hell with this. A run down the stairs it will just have to be.

As irrelevant as it is, I really wish I'd put sneakers or something on instead of my little ballerina pumps, which are liable to fall off and are not exactly the most comfortable to run in. My feet are aching after running down those seven flights of stairs.

And now is the point I realise I have absolutely no idea where I'm going in this centre. Oh thank God. There is a map just over there. Hmm… okay. So the conference is in the Lattey building. And the Lattey building is….

The other freaking side of the freaking complex.

Sod's Law. I hate it.

* * *

_In the Lattey Hall, the Village Idiot was blissfully unaware of anything that was transpiring in Sacred Heartia._

_He stood in front of all the other Village Idiots from all over the land, telling them how to be even more colossal idiots... as if there need to be more idiots in this world. Oh, sorry Jack. The story_…

* * *

**  
****JD**

A part of me wishes I had never agreed to this. For the last four hours I've been talking to different sets of pre-meds about getting into medical school and what's it's like to be a doctor – basically all the usual things you tell pre-meds – and having repeated the same speech over and over, I'm bored; the people I'm talking to are bored; and there's still another six hours left of this conference. I just wish somebody would get me out of here.

"So, are there any questions?" I ask the pre-meds.

They stare at me with blank faces. The only exception to the monotony is one guy who lifts his hand. To be honest, he looks more as if he should be going to rehab than to medical school.

"Yes?"

"Like… is being a doctor as boring as this conference is?" He asks. "Cause if it is I don't think I wanna be a doctor."

I don't think you should be a doctor, regardless of how boring you think it is. "Well, being a doctor is nothing like this conference. There is a lot of variety with medicine. To find out what being a doctor is really like, I suggest you organise some work experience at a hospital."

"But…" the stoned guys stutters, "Can't you make this conference less boring?"

Before I answer, the monotony in the room is shattered by the sound of a door crashing open and somebody storming in. That somebody storming in is Alyssa Reid.

"Hey, moron!" she angrily shouts.

"Well, this is a start," I hear the stoned guy mutter.

"Why the hell would you switch your cell phone not keep your cell phone on?!" Alyssa yells. "People have been trying to call you for the last freaking three hours!"

Okay… "Hi Alyssa," I tentatively say, as I point towards the auditorium. "Alyssa, meet the two hundred bored people listening to a lecture about getting in to med school. Bored people, Alyssa."

With her eyebrows furrowed, Alyssa turns around nervously. "Um… hi?" She waves slightly. "That was… weird," she mutters, as she turns back around. "So, seriously, why the hell would you switch your cell phone off?"

"My cell phone isn't switched off," I calmly answer. "Why?"

"Well it must be," Alyssa snaps completely ignoring the question, "because we've called you fifty million times and not been able to get through once."

"It's definitely on, because I checked it just before I came in here. Alyssa, are you okay?" She seems freaked out about something.

"But…" Alyssa seems confused. "That can't be right," she mutters to herself.

While Alyssa talks to herself, I go over to the stand where my notes and my cell phone. "Oh. There's no signal."

"No signal?" Alyssa quietly repeats. "No signal. All of this because of no freaking signal. God. Cell phone networks should give you some kind of clue about why you can't get through to someone. The message should say 'This person is unavailable because they are out of signal range' or 'This person is unavailable because their cell is switched off.' God, if the phone companies had the good sense to do that, then we could have avoiding this whole freaking hoopla and somebody would have had the good sense to drive over here from the hospital about two hours ago instead of leaving it until the last freaking minute."

"Alyssa," I ask. "What's going on?"

_For a moment, she didn't know how to answer. She stood there, frozen. Why? Because she was about to give really bad news to the Village Idiot. You see, Jack, being told that a monster was attacking his princess was trying to fight a monster that was attacking their child whilst he hadn't been there to help was one of the worst things that the Village Idiot could possibly hear, and being the one to deliver such bad news was scary to the Princess' niece. And although she was scared, the Princess' niece knew that this was ineluctable._

_With a heavy sigh, she began. "A vicious monster attacks the Princess's child."_

_This understandably shocked the Village Idiot. "What?"_

_"There is no time for you to ask questions," the Princess's niece said quickly. "For The Princess is fighting off the monster the best she can, but she needs your help. There's no time to spare. The Monster's attacks are fierce, very fierce. You must return to Sacred Heartia at once, before it's too late." The Princess' niece turned on her heels and quickly began to make her way out of the hall before she even waited for a response from the Village Idiot._

_Without hesitation, the Village Idiot followed her out of Lattey Hall. He had forgotten all about the other village idiots he was supposed to be teaching. They didn't matter. All that mattered to the Village Idiot now was the Princess, their child, and the battle he knew he had to fight for them._

_

* * *

_

_When he arrived back in Sacred Heartia, the Village Idiot wasted no time in looking for the Princess and the Monster she was battling. But the Turla was standing there waiting on him with bad news…_

_"The monster broke in two," the male Turla told the Village Idiot. "It was too much for the Princess to take all by herself. It separated her from her child. The brave knight Percival Cox fights a monster on her behalf. But there's still another monster at large."_

_Upon hearing this news, the Village Idiot immediately began to run in the direction of the other monster._

_"Wait!" The female Turla called after him, causing the Village Idiot to turn back around again. "Take this," she continued, brandishing a powerful and magical sword. "You'll need it."_

_The Village Idiot thanked the two-headed witch before running once again in the direction of the Monster._

_When he first saw the Monster, the Village Idiot was so frightened that he couldn't move his legs. He wasn't the bravest, this Village Idiot, and he always tried to run away from a fight. But this time… this time, Jack, something was different. Because this time, the fight really meant something to him._

_He swallowed down his fear and choked out: "My name is Village Idiot. You're hurting my Princess and my child. Prepare to die."_

_The battle was long and arduous. The monster was tough, however. No matter how hard he tried, the Village Idiot didn't seem to be making any progress while the Monster seemed to be gaining power. Somehow, it managed to steal the Idiot's sword._

_The Idiot didn't know what to do next. Without his sword, he was powerless and the Monster would surely win. But, remember how I told you that the Turla had given the Village Idiot a magic sword? Well…_

_To his surprise, the sword disappeared from the Monster's grasp and found it's way back to the Idiot's hands and the battle continued._

_The Village Idiot fought as hard as he could. With every swipe of the sword, he chipped just a little bit of strength away from the monster._

_And then, all of a sudden, it was all over._

_The monster exploded into a million pieces and then evaporated, leaving Sacred Heartia forever._

_For a moment, the Village Idiot stood there, frozen. He couldn't believe what he had just done. He, the Village Idiot, had for once in his life, plucked up the courage out of somewhere to fight a monster. And he had won._

_He walked out of the battle room and into the town. It was peaceful. The messenger birds were singing again in the trees and the sun was shining._

_Everything was once again right in Sacred Heartia._

_What do you mean what about the Princess and her baby?_

_Well, they lived happily ever after with the Village Idiot, didn't they?_

---

**Dr Cox**

Jack falls asleep shortly after I finish telling him the story.

I tiptoe quietly out of the room, careful not to wake him up. After I close the door, I glance to the side and see Jordan.

She's sitting on the floor, looking expectantly up at me. "Perry." Jordan's voice is low and serious. "Is that how it really ended?"

I don't answer.

"Perry?"

"That… that's not how it really ended."

* * *

**JD**

"Alyssa," I ask. "What's going on?"

Alyssa doesn't answer. Instead she just stares at me. But she looks really frightened and startled.

"Alyssa, what's wrong?"

Still no answer.

"Alyssa?"

"Oh my god," Alyssa mutters to herself.

"Alyssa, would you just tell me what the hell is going on."

"Elliot's in labour," she blurts out.

"W…what?"

"Elliot's in labour."

"How is that possible? She's only 31 weeks pregnant."

"Yeah." Alyssa looks down at the ground.

"Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god" Pause. "You can't be serious, right? This is all just some elaborate sick joke you're trying to pull?"

"Do you see me laughing? And I don't mean to be sarcastic, I really don't," Alyssa says. "But there really isn't time for you to freak out. There isn't time for you to hang around here and ask questions."

"What the hell do you mean?"

Alyssa sighs. "Because when I left Sacred Heart an hour and a half ago, she was eight centimetres dilated. So you need to get our skinny white hiney out of here now if there is to be any chance of you making it back their before your kid is born. So move your ass." Alyssa immediately turns and leaves the room.

Holy mother of god.

* * *

**Alyssa**

At least the traffic isn't so bad going this way. I don't feel so much like I'm going to hit something. Or I wouldn't if it wasn't for…

"How could I not have known? Elliot was complaining of pain this morning and I thought it was nothing. She thought it was nothing. This can't be right, this can't be happening. Why didn't anybody call me?"

Trying to remain calm here. I'm in control of a car that's travelling at nearly one hundred miles-per-hour here… "People tried, but nobody could get through to you because you had no signal on your phone. I've already explained this." See, calm. Ish. Except I'm really not calm in the slightest.

"Well, somebody should have gone to the conference centre earlier, not when Elliot was at eight centimetres dilated. And that was nearly two hours ago when you left. For all I know Elliot might have had the baby already. And god only knows how the baby will be, what with it being two months early and all. God, what if something has happened to the baby. And what state is Elliot going to be in? God only knows-"

"For the love of god I'm trying to drive this car at nearly one hundred miles an hour so that there's the slightest chance you might make it to the hospital in time. Do you want me to crash it before you meet your kid?"

"No."

"Then shut the freaking hell up!" I snap.

Way to go, Alyssa. Fantastic time to snap at someone who's worried whether or not their kid is going to be okay. Just terrific timing.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later and I've managed to drive back to the hospital without crashing, knocking anybody over or causing damage of any sort. I'm quite proud of that, if I do say so myself. I pull to a stop just in front on the hospital door.

"Room 163, third floor. Go, and I'm sorry for yelling at you."

JD gets out of the car quickly and closes the door, but through the open window says, "Don't worry about it." He hurries up the stairs and into the hospital.

I drive slowly (which I haven't been doing a hell of a lot of today) along the hospital car park to find a space.

Maybe I'm just being an optimist, but I think things might start to be okay now.

* * *

In contrast to my running out of the hospital and running everywhere else earlier, I'm not rushing now. Feels good to walk for a change instead of run, as pathetic as that sounds. My feet hurt less, which is always a bonus.

The elevator up to the third floor is busy. I wonder how Carla's feeling now. She's bound to be a relieved slightly. I don't know how much longer after I left that she would have been able to keep up her calm, collected, un-freaking-out façade, because it was really starting to crack by the time I left. And I wonder if Aunt Elliot has actually had the baby. I'm going to assume that she has. I hope the baby's okay. They will be, they will be. It'll all be okay.

There are still so many people in the elevator that I practically have to push past people to get out of it. That wasn't fun. When I eventually get out of the elevator, I notice Kate standing there, almost as if she's waiting on me.

"Hey, Kate," I say.

"Lys, I tried to call you but you didn't answer your cell," she says, looking deadly serious.

"Was that you calling?" I ask. "I couldn't answer; I was driving. What's going on? What's wrong?" I ask, when she doesn't seem to lighten up any.

"Something happened, I don't know what," she answers. "And I tried to call you to warn you but…"

"Kate, what happened?"

She doesn't answer.

"Kate, what the hell has happened?"

Kate doesn't verbally answer, but she looks off to the side, along the corridor.

I look where Kate is looking. Carla is sitting on a random chair, looking completely shocked. I think she's crying because her eyes are red and puffy. Turk is talking to JD, but even he looks deadly serious and worried, but like he's trying to be optimistic. When Turk stops speaking, JD steps – almost staggers back – eyes wide as all get out, hand covering his mouth. Then he starts to cry, and Turk puts a hand on his back.

"Kate," I begin, as I turn my head to look at her. My voice is low and stern. "What happened?"

But it's not Kate that answers.

"While you were gone there were some complications." I turn around and see Dr Cox there. "The baby went into distress, so your aunt was rushed for a caesarean section. There were complications and your aunt lost a lot of blood. As a result, she's on a life support machine in the ICU."

"Oh my god… wait… what… what about the baby?"

"Little girl," Dr Cox responds. "She's ill, as would be expected of a baby born so early. She's on a ventilator because her lungs aren't developed enough for her to breathe on her own." Dr Cox sighs heavily. "Alyssa, I'm going to be honest with you here: it's touch-and-go. For both of them."

"Oh my god."

* * *

**AN: I, um…. *hides***


	30. Chapter 29

_AN: I know, I know. I'm an awful writer and an awful human being for not updating for so long and leaving you on that cliffhanger. I do sincerely apologise but life got in the way. You know how it is. Anway, I hope you like this and I hope you'll let me know what you think of it. Cheers. :)_

* * *

**Chapter 29**

_Alyssa_

They say that when the apocalypse comes, the only things to survive will be cockroaches.

But I disagree. I like to think that on some weird, spiritual level, all the memories that people made, all the happy times, and all the 'I love you's people have said will somehow linger on. I'd like to think that when they apocalypse comes, it'll be like it is in the movies where you'll have time before the meteor hits, time to tell your family you love them and set aside all your disputes and grudges. You'll have time to make everything okay. You'll have time to make sure the bad energy isn't what lingers.

My cousin is three hours old now and, at two pounds two ounces, is barely the weight of a bag of sugar. She's really tiny. The clear plastic like substance of an incubator encompasses her like a cage, and an oxygen mask – heartbreakingly small - covers her nose and mouth. She doesn't wriggle around like any usual newborn. She just lies there, prostrate, her little head, facing my direction. The features of her face, they're not fully developed. It's like… the lines of her eyes are smudged. In fact, her face looks just it does in that 3D scan picture that Aunt Elliot put in a frame last week. But… well. You know.

This I've seen through the glass window, looking into the NICU. They don't let anybody except parents in there.

And there's the problem.

The NICU is four floors down from the normal ICU. I take the stairs because… well, if anyone were to ask, I'd say it was because I didn't want to wait on the lift, but really it's because it takes a bit longer to get there.

Aunt Elliot is really ill. Like, knocking on heaven's door ill. Dr Cox tried to explain to me what happened, but it doesn't really make much sense. I can't quite comprehend how someone can become so ill so quickly.

The reason that I want to take as much time as possible to get the ICU floor, is because it's… there's no other way to say it other than it's scary being up here.

Turk walks towards me as I walk further into the ICU. "Hey," he says sadly. "Were you just at the NICU?"

"Yeah."

"How is…?"

"No change."

Turk just frowns even more than he already was. "Did you see JD down there?"

"No."

"Damn."

"Turk?"

"He went for a walk half an hour ago and nobody's seen him since." Turk doesn't say anything else, but walks away in the opposite direction.

The problem with my theory: You never know when the apocalypse is going to hit.

* * *

_Carla_I don't know what to say. There, quite honestly, are no words.

One second she was there, the next she wasn't and they're trying to get her heart started again.

I need to take a minute outside. I need to call the nanny to ask her to stay later with Izzy, because Turk and I need to stay at the hospital later tonight.

She didn't even get a chance to see her baby before. She doesn't even know that she has a daughter.

The nanny can stay longer. Thankfully. And she hopes my friend gets better soon.

I didn't tell her how bad it was. I didn't say.

Nobody has seen JD for about two hours now. He stayed in Elliot's room for a while, before going down to the NICU and staying there for a while. Then he disappeared.

I can't even begin to imagine what's going through his head right now.

They've been through so much, the two of them, just to get to the point that they are now. And to see it all end up like this, in this mess?

This should be one of the happiest times of their lives. It shouldn't be like this.

I realise that I've been standing out here for longer than I expected. Longer than I'd meant to anyway. But then I decide I could really do with a coffee, so I begin to walk to Coffee Bucks.

I walk down the ramp from the hospital door. But as I glance to the side, along the hospital car park where the benches are and see JD, sitting on one of them looking lost as all get out.

"JD," I say when I'm standing at the bench. "You should really go back inside."

He doesn't respond.

"It's raining. You'll catch something." I sigh when he still doesn't answer me. "I know this is all ridiculously difficult for you and –"

"In all fairness Carla, you _don't,"_ JD snaps. "You have _no idea_."

"I know," I concede. "But… they really need you up there, JD. You should be up there with them."

"Yeah, and how exactly am I supposed be there for both of them?"

"We're here. We're all here. We're all gonna help." And I know that that's futile. Whatever I say isn't going to mean anything to him. Because _he _needs to be there. Then a thought runs through my head. "If Elliot were able to tell you, who do you think she'd want you to be with?"

Nothing else is said. JD just gets up from the bench and walks back into this hospital.

So much for happiest time of his life.

* * *

Hey, little girl. I guess Mommy was right about you. What I wouldn't give right now to see her do her 'Told You So' dance right now. She'd be here right now if she could. She wouldn't leave your side if she could be here right now. But she's really sick too. She needs something to help her breathe like you do, so she can't be here with you. But that doesn't mean she doesn't love you. I don't want you to think that because she does. She loves you more than anything; we both do. And I know that Mommy is trying her hardest to be here. She's fighting the best she can. I need you to fight too, okay baby girl?

I know you're scared, little one. I am too. I'm so scared I'm going to lose you and Mommy. You're the two most important people in the world to me. I can't lose the two of you. I don't want to lose you.

God, you're so small. But you have my nose. I can tell. And Mommy's finger-toes. You're so small. But you're a fighter, right? You can be a little fighter for Daddy, right?

It shouldn't be like this, you know. The first time I talk to you shouldn't be through the plastic walls of an incubator. You shouldn't even be in the incubator; you shouldn't need something to help you to breathe. You should be up stairs with Mommy and me, and we should be deciding what we're gonna call you, what your name's going to be. I should be calling anyone I can think of, just to tell them that I have a beautiful new daughter. Mommy should be arguing with one of the nurses because they want to take you to the nursery so she can get some rest but she wants to keep you close to her. She shouldn't be up there fighting to survive too.  
I thought a lot about what this would be like, what it would be like when you were born. It wasn't ever like this.

But then again, things are never how you imagine them to be, are they?

I'm going to go just now, little girl. I'm going to see Mommy, but I'll be back as soon as I can, okay? I'll be back as soon as I can. But what you're doing right now, whatever it is you're doing to stay alive right now…keep doing that for me, okay?

I love you, baby girl.

_

* * *

__Alyssa_

Some more time passes. I'm not sure how long. It feels like a while though. But… even a minute feels like a while right now.

What are you supposed to in this sort of situation? Like… what do you do? Do you just sit around and wait for something to happen? That's just hell. _This_ is hell.

I feel like I need to be doing something. But what exactly can I do? I can't do anything to help my aunt or my cousin. Doing anything else just seems inappropriate. How can you sit and read a magazine or sit and listen to your iPod when… well, _now._

You know when you have a nightmare and you really, _really_ want to wake up?

I stand up suddenly. Suddenly, because I didn't even think about doing it. I just stood up. I figure that if I need to do something, I might as well get drinks. Turk and Carla both want coffee. I don't know if they really do want coffee considering they both just had some, or if they just realise that I need to feel like I'm doing something.

Walking along the corridor and people keep giving me strange looks.

I don't like it.

"Alyssa."

I stop dead in my tracks. For a second, I'm scared to turn around to face Dr Cox. Eventually:

"Yeah?"

"Your family in Connecticut," he says, stepping towards me. "Are they flying out here?"

I hadn't even thought about them. "They don't know so… I wouldn't think so."

"They don't know?"

"No." I respond. "They don't even know that my aunt is… was pregnant."

Dr Cox frowns. "Alyssa… if it was my daughter and my granddaughter lying there so ill… I'd want to know. They should be told."

Dr Cox walks .

* * *

_Dr Cox_The hospital is a strange place in the middle of uncertainty, especially when one of our own is in trouble. There's a heaviness in the air that weighs down on everyone, creating a sombre silence. We work as we normally would, we treat patients as we normally would, but it's different. Everyone here is worried about someone; a friend; a co-worker, her daughter. If this was a different setting, if we weren't medics in a hospital, we'd be sitting in the waiting room too.

We're medics. We're used to dealing with life and death situations all the time. But it's a completely different story when it's one of your own.

But somebody has to pick up the slack when you have one doctor on life support, another dividing his time between his critically ill girlfriend and his critically ill newborn daughter, and a nurse and a surgeon who are trying to do whatever they can to help in any way, but struggling to stop themselves from crumbling.

It's difficult being the doctor when it's one of your own. When you're treating strangers, you can separate yourself from them, from their backstory. But if somebody could tell me how exactly you're supposed to separate yourself from the patient when you've taught her since she was an intern, when her friends are your friends, when you've seen her sick daughter who is really going to need her mother, when you've made the comment that in all the time you've known her you've never seen her happier than when she was finally in a healthy relationship with Newbie and about to be a mother, I'd really, re_hea_lly appreciate it.

Interns are strange creatures. They're cocky when they really know nothing and they have some way of being able to annoy the sanity out of every other staff member, but credit to them they know not to give anybody grief now. They know that they'd best just do what they're told to do and do it right first time, because nobody is in the mood to put up with any of their crap today.

"Dr Cox?"

I look around from my hunched position at the nurses' station to see a group of interns, a composite of Dr Reid and Dr Dorian's interns, standing there, looking to me, not for another task but for answers. The thing is, I know exactly what they're going to ask just by the looks on their faces.

"There's no change."

They know as well as I do that 'no change' is really just code for how bad things are. If the situation wasn't so bad, I'd say 'Still stable' or 'no improvement but she's not any worse.' They know that.

"I'll let you know if there's any news."

Dejectedly, the interns walk away with their heads bowed and their shoulders slumped.

It's difficult, too, for the interns. In your first year of medicine, it's easy to get lost, caught up in the stormy tide of learning, life, and patients. And your attendings, no matter how much you hate them, how much you think they're pushing you too hard, they become your anchor, something to keep you steady when you could so easily capsize under the pressure.

In a disaster, there's always somebody who has to be the support beam so that everything doesn't collapse.

"Dr Cox."

I spin around and almost snap at the person for bothering me again, but I manage to prevent myself from doing so when I realise who was speaking to me.

It's Alyssa Reid.

"I tried calling," she says. "I mean, I started dialling a number in to the payphone, but I hung up. Because…" The teenager trails off. She lowers her head and starts staring at the floor. When she looks back up again… Alyssa's crying, which is hardly surprising given the situation. "Because I have no idea what's happening and nothing makes sense and my family don't know anything and there's no way –" she pauses, in the way that a person does when they're trying to stop themselves from losing their composure completely – "there's no way that I can talk to them."

"I'll call your family and tell them."

Alyssa says something that I think is an attempt at 'thank you'. She hands me a piece of paper – a list of numbers to call – before walking just a bit away from the nurses' station, but still close enough to be able to hear what is said on the phone.

With a sigh, I lift the phone from the base unit. This is what I hate about being a doctor. Having to give bad news – especially bad news like this. It's the knowledge that before your phone call, this person whose world you've just shattered was just going about their daily business, blissfully unaware.

I key the number into the phone. As the phone rings, waiting for the person at the other side of the country to pick up, I glance at Alyssa Reid. That's a different kid than I've come to know over the past year. That's not the same girl who sat with us during Izzy Turk's christening. This Alyssa is just a scared little girl. Who can blame her.

_"Hello, St Augustine's Hospital. This is Chief of Medicine, Dr Simon Reid speaking. How can I help?"_Here goes. "Hello, this is Dr Perry Cox of Sacred Heart Hospital," I say. "I'm calling about your daughter Elliot."

There's a long pause, like a suspicion. "_Yes?"_

"I'm afraid I have some bad news."

It's a strange thing telling a father that his daughter is so ill and that his daughter is a mother when he didn't know that she was pregnant. At first… well, at first there is no reaction. Only silence. And then:

_"I… I don't understand."_

So I try to explain again, but I get bogged down in the medicine of the situation. Because there's no way I can even begin to imagine what is going through this guy's head right now. I can't understand the emotion, but we can both understand the medicine.

_"I can't believe this."_

You and me both, I think.

_"Is Alyssa there? I want to speak to her."_

"Yeah, she's right here." I lower the phone from my ear, covering the mouthpiece with my hand, and I turn to face Alyssa. "Your granddad wants to speak to you."

The teenager nods, and takes the phone. She barely has the phone for a few seconds before she breaks out in to a full-blown sob. I put a hand on her arm before walking away to give her privacy to talk (or at least attempt to) to her granddad.

Like I said. There's always someone.

* * *

_Alyssa_My grandparents are supposed to get here on Tuesday. Apparently there are no other available flights out here until then.

Does that mean this is going to go on that long? That nothing will have changed by Tuesday?

Anybody who knows any member of the Reid family will be able to tell you that we're masters of denial. A meteor could be about to collide with Earth and we'd still be talking about what we're going to do next week.

But this denial is different.

I'm still clinging on to the hope that in a few hours everything will be okay. Aunt Elliot will wake up and my cousin will be perfectly healthy and we'll all forget that this ever happened. That maybe I'll go downstairs and by the time I get back it'll be okay. Nothing will have been as bad as it seems.

But it must be bad if my grandparents are going to fly out here from Connecticut and they're going to call the rest of my family and tell them to get out here.

This is bad.

I've never seen or heard my granddad cry before, but I swear I heard him cry on the phone earlier. He wasn't bawling like I was, but I swear that his voice was different, like how your voice changes when you're choking back tears. And he sounded scared too. Scared, but not mad that he wasn't told until the day the baby was born that his daughter had been pregnant. I can't remember how many times I said to Aunt Elliot that the longer she didn't tell Granddad that she was pregnant, the madder he would be. But I suppose there's no room to get mad at your daughter when she's sitting on Death's doorstep.

This is really bad.

It's ten thirty at night now. More then twelve hours since this all began, but it feels like longer. Carla is going home to look after Izzy. Turk is staying here for moral support or whatever. It's a strange thing watching them. They're trying to be strong; because good friends are supposed to be moral support and good friends don't crumble. But Aunt Elliot is Turk and Carla's friend too – she's Carla's best friend – and they're clearly just as scared as they are trying to be good friends.

I'm sitting on one of the waiting room chairs when I recognise a voice coming from just down the corridor.

"I'm looking for my sister, Elliot Reid," the voice says, and I stand up to go down the corridor. "I was told she was here."The nurse doesn't exactly get a chance to respond. "Hi, Dad."

My Dad walks over to me and immediately hugs me in the protective way that I can just remember from when I was little.

And I know it's supposed to be a comfort, but it leaves me more terrified.

* * *

_Alyssa_

Coffee Bucks is quiet this time at night, unsurprisingly. My Dad insisted on coming down here because he wanted to talk to me.  
_  
_"You never told me that Aunt Elliot was pregnant."

"She asked me not to."

This seems to confuse my dad. "She asked you not to tell me? Why?"

I take a sip of my drink before answering. "Aunt Elliot hasn't… _hadn't_ told Grandma Granddad that she was pregnant. She didn't want anybody else to know until she'd told them." Aunt Elliot thought my granddad would kill her when she told him.

Seems ironic now.

"I just can't believe Elliot hid it for so long. Seven months. Is that why she never visited? Or you never invited me to visit?"

I nod.

But then it goes quiet. Because I can't really think what to say. I can answer questions, but what am I supposed to say when the only thing that's running through my head right now is the fact that some time sooner or later, my dad is going to die. And my dad dying is why I'm staying with Aunt Elliot in the first place. Right now, it's damn likely that Aunt Elliot could die. I think when they're in a hospital on a life support machine, you can say they might die.

At this moment I'm wondering what the hell will happen when both my dad and my aunt are dead.

For a while, my dad keeps asking questions about everything that's happened in the last few months, everything he hasn't been told. And I answer his questions, but it's like… I'm just robotically answering them. I'm just thinking about what might happen – what's probably_ going_ to happen, which isn't surprising. Here's what is surprising though. Instead of freaking out as you'd maybe expect (and how I might be if I hadn't already used up my all of my freak out particles), I'm listening to what my dad is saying and getting really, _really _angry.

"How could Elliot not tell anybody she was pregnant? How can you not tell your family something so important, so life changing?"

"That's the pot calling the kettle black."

Dad raises an eyebrow. "What's that now?"

He obviously heard my incensed under-breath mumbling. "I said 'that's the pot calling the kettle black'. Look, you never ever told me that you were sick. Okay, the first time I was four, so I get that. But this time you and Mom, instead of telling me, sent me all the way across the country to live with my aunt. And you didn't even tell her that she was about to become the main carer to a sixteen-year-old, which pretty much changed her life. If it hadn't been for going to Connecticut at Christmas, would you have even have told me about being sick? Would you? I mean… it… it sucks that here you are making all the comments in the world about Aunt Elliot when you're hardly the poster child for honesty."

"That… what I did was different."

"Yeah. _How?"_ I snap, and it's like all that anger that was bubbling inside of me just started overflowing.

My dad doesn't answer me, so I stand up.

"I think I'm going to go back upstairs because I really don't want to sit down here and talk because I'm just going to make myself angrier and I really don't have the energy or the patience or anything for that right now." With that, I start walking out of Coffee Bucks.

"Alyssa!"

"I'll talk to you later, Dad."

* * *

_Alyssa_

Trying to sleep is futile.

This conclusion I've come to after glancing at the clock and realising it's 3AM and I haven't slept a wink. I sit up – these waiting room chairs aren't exactly comfortable – and squint to try to see in the darkness. On the row of chairs opposite mine, Turk appears to be… sleeping.

Okay, so maybe just for me, sleep is futile.

Dad eventually went home a couple of hours ago. It was a weird conversation. We both apologised, but never went in to any detail about what we were actually apologising for. And he tried to get me to go and stay at his house, but I didn't want to. I guess I wanted to stay here.

I walk out of the waiting room. I've never been in the hospital at night before. It's different. It's completely silent, except for the faint sounds of medical machines. I don't like that.

The route I take now I could walk it in my sleep. If I could sleep. It's the walk along the corridor to Aunt Elliot's room.

I've only been in Aunt Elliot's room once. And when I was in there, I had no idea what to do. I had no idea what to say. Maybe that makes me a horrible person. Does it?

I've been along there so many times to see how Aunt Elliot is. I just can't go in there.

Really, is that awful?

Along this quiet corridor, my footsteps sound like they could come from an elephant. At least they do in my head. There's normally so much activity in this corridor. It's strange to see it so empty.

And them I'm standing outside Aunt Elliot's room. JD's in there.

I glance in the window and notice that, unsurprisingly, JD isn't asleep either. I get a grip of the door handle and open it quietly, like if I was to open the door normally I'd wake somebody up.

If only.

JD doesn't seem to notice that the door has been opened. But I can hear him talking faintly.

"You've got to meet our little girl," he says, sniffing just after. "You've gotta get down there. You've gotta hold her tiny little hand. You have to wake up for me, Elliot."

I shut the door after that. If I listen to that any more, I think I might lose it. I can't even remember what it was I was going to say. I can't disturb that.

I start walking again, and before I know it, I'm outside the hospital. The outside air is cold, and I can see my own breath. And then I realise that I'm standing outside at three in the morning in just jeans and a t-shirt. I didn't bring a jacket or a sweater with me.

I didn't expect to be standing outside a hospital in the middle of the night.

I'm freezing and yet I don't go back inside. Instead, I walk across the car park to sit on the bench that I recognise as the one I sat on my first day here when I was waiting on Aunt Elliot.

How the hell did I get from there to here?

Without really thinking, I take my cell phone out of my pocket.

_Are you awake?_ I type.

The selection light hovers over Michael's number for a second or two, before I eventually press send.

Soon after, the sound of _Soul Meets Body_ by Death Cab for Cutie disturbs the stillness of the car park. I answer my phone quickly.

"Hello?"

_"Hey. Did something happen?"_"No." And that's the problem, I think. "I can't sleep. And I can't make any sense of any of this. It's not right."

_"I know."_"Why? I don't get why or how, you know? I don't get how everything can change so much so quickly."

_"I don't think anybody does, Lys."_ There's a pause. _"It'll all be okay…"_"Thanks for trying to make me feel better but optimism really won't work." Turns out that even now I can be sarcastic. "I don't think it is going to be okay. I don't. Not completely. And I keep thinking all these things like… is going to be one or the other that lives? Is it either going to be my aunt that live or my cousin but not both?"

_"God, Lys, you shouldn't think like that. Hey, what is it you always say? Think positively and good things will happen."_"Somehow I don't think the power of positive thinking is gonna cut it here," I sniff, only then realising that I'm crying again.

There isn't a lot said after that. Truthfully, there's not a lot that can be said. What does anybody say?

_"Do you want me to come to the hospital?"_He just offered to come to the hospital in the middle of the night for me. "No it's okay. But thank you…"

_"Are you sure?"_

"Yeah. I think I'm going to go back inside and try to sleep again. Key word there: try."

_"Okay, if you're sure. I'll call you in the morning, okay?"_"Yeah. Speak to you tomorrow. And thanks for… talking. Thank you."

_"What do you think I'm here for?"_The call ends there, and I switch my cell off. I stand up, eventually, and put my phone into my pocket, before walking back into the hospital.

* * *

Hey, Elliot.

God. I can't believe I'm seeing you like this. You look so small, so helpless. This isn't you.

I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you Elliot. I'm so sorry I wasn't there when you needed me to be. I should've been here for you.

I keep picturing you, how it was for you. I imagine you so scared.

I was going to call you. I had a five-minute break and I was going to call you. To see if you were feeling any better. But somebody asked me a question and I got distracted and it was time to begin the seminar again before I knew it. I should have taken the time to call you. I should have called. Then I'd known what you were going though and I'd have been here for you. I should've called. I'm so sorry.

We never did things the easy way, did we? Nothing was ever simple for us. And right now I'm thinking about everything we did to each other in the past, all that stupid stuff we did to each other. And all that stuff seems so insignificant. What the hell we were thinking back then?

It took us so long to get here. It took us so long to get to this place where we're finally happy. We've grown up, got over all of our ridiculous fear of commitment and we're happy. We have a daughter.

I saw her, Elliot. I saw our little girl. She's so tiny. She's really gonna need you, Elliot. She's really going to need her mommy.

She looks like you. She has your jaw line. And your cheekbones. I tell her that you would be downstairs with her if you could. I don't want her to think you don't want her or you don't love her. That couldn't be further from the truth.

I should've called you.

It's killing me to see you like this. And Carla's right; I know you'd tell me to be downstairs to be with the baby, and I'm going back down soon to check on her, I promise. But you're so ill too, and you've got to be terrified too. I don't want to leave you alone. If something happens, I don't want you to be alone. Again.

I love you, Elliot. I love you more than I ever thought I could and the thought of losing you scares the hell out of me. We're supposed to spend the rest of our lives together, but the rest of our lives isn't supposed to be over yet. It's not supposed to be like this. We've got a little girl to raise. You've got everything to live for, Elliot. You haven't even met your own daughter yet, for god sakes.

You've gotta meet our little girl, Elliot. You've gotta get down there. You've gotta hold her tiny little hand.

You have to wake up for me, Elliot.

The baby, she's ill. She's tiny, she's on a ventilator. But she's strong, Elliot. She's fighting like hell, Elliot, I can tell.

You said she was going to kick ass, didn't you? Last week, you practically dragged me from a patient's room to the doctor's lounge to feel how hard she was kicking you. You said '_When this one's born, she is going to kick. Ass.'_ Well, she's kicking ass right now, Elliot.

I'm going to go back down to the baby now, Elliot, but I'll be back up to see you later. I love you. So don't die on me, okay?

Please?_  
_

_Turk_Every Sunday morning in the hospital chapel there is a church service that patients and their families can go to when they can't go to their normal churches. It's open to staff too, but I don't usually go. I did this morning though.

I've never seen the hospital from this side before. It's almost unrecognisable. Physically everything's the same, but you can't understand what it's like to be standing at this side of the threshold unless you've actually been there.

At the service, the minister asked us to pray for our friends and our families. He asked us to pray for their health to improve. And then after the service, one of the congregation walked up to me and told me how nice it was to see a doctor down here at the service. That was when I realised that I was still in the scrubs I wore to work yesterday.

I didn't tell that woman that, at this moment in time, I'm not one of the doctors here, but my wife's best friend and her daughter, my best friend's girlfriend and daughter, _my_ friend and her daughter, are gravely ill upstairs. That I was here praying for them to get better.

After the service, I made my way back upstairs to the intensive care unit. To Elliot's room. JD wasn't in there – I assumed that he was down at the NICU. But Dr Cox was in there with some interns. It was Rounds. So I entered the room too, to see how Elliot is.

Here's the thing. Dr Cox and the interns kept referring to Elliot as 'the patient'. _The patient is one day post-op. The patient shows no signs of improvement. _And the whole time, my mind is going 'That's not the patient, that's _Elliot_, for god sake. That's my little girl's godmother.'

During rounds, Dr Cox kept glancing at me as he was explaining. He kept looking at me like he knew what was going through my head at that exact moment. It was as if he was apologising because he was thinking the same thing too.

I knew something was wrong, you know.

That surgery, it was one of the hardest things I've ever done. I was responsible to the patient, but I was so distracted. How could I not be? All of the surgical team knew it. I sent someone to call up for updates. And then one time the response was different.

_What's the update_, I asked, but that intern didn't reply. _What is the damn update?_And then, _Dr Reid's been brought down here for an emergency c-section._

_What?_

I don't know anything else. That's all they said, and that Nurse Espinosa's with her.

The rest of the surgery is a bit of a blur. The next thing that's crystal clear is when I walked out of that OR and seeing The Todd standing there waiting on me, a look on his face I'd never seen before.

_I don't know how to tell you this T-Dawg, but…_

I walk to the main entrance of the hospital, where I said I'd meet Carla. I can see her walking towards me, carrying Izzy in her arms. When she reaches me, I hug my wife and daughter tighter than I think I've ever hugged them before.

"How are… is there…" Carla trails off.

"No real change," I solemnly respond. I really wish there was something more I could tell her. And the look on her face when I say that? Well, it's like somebody punched me in the gut. "How did you sleep?"

"Not well. You?"

"Pretty much the same."

Almost seamlessly and without words – we have this down to a fine art – Carla hands Izzy to me. Then she goes to her bag and pulls out a photo wallet.

"I picked these up on our way here."

Carla slides Izzy away from me. I take the photo wallet from her and begin looking at it. As if I'd summoned it, the first photo is of JD and a pregnant Elliot, who is holding Izzy. It seems like a million years ago since this photo was taken, when really, it was just last week.

"I keep thinking back to then," Carla whispers. "I keep thinking back to me saying that it's going to be weird not seeing Elliot around the hospital when really it's weird seeing her in the hospital." She pauses and wipes a tear away from her eye. "You didn't see her before, Turk. She was so scared. She said something like 'make sure they're okay' and then everything went crazy. I just… I can't get that out of my head. And then I see JD and the mess he's in…"

The truth is that neither of us has ever seen JD in the desolate state he's in right now. In all the years I've known him, I've never seen him look so lost, so worried, so terrified. But then again, I've never seen him here before.

A person changes at a time like this. A person changes when they see their loved ones so sick. We see it all the time here. But I never once imagined that the person to change would ever be JD.

Part of me can't recognise Carla either. I don't recognise the fear in her eyes. The fear that her best friend - who she considers more of a sister than her actual sisters – is going to die.

I'm used to seeing that fear in other people. But, as I said, I never once thought I'd see it in Carla. I'd never thought I'd see Carla out here, eyes red from crying and a lack of sleep but filled with terror.

I'm used to Carla being the strong one, not me trying to be strong for her.

"It's going to be okay?" Carla asks softly.

The answer I give her isn't verbal. Because as much as I want to promise her that everything's going to be fine, I have absolutely no idea. I tell patients – total strangers – that everything will be okay, but I can't tell it to my wife. Go figure.

So instead, I wrap my arms around her and hug her, because it's the only answer I can give.

* * *

_Alyssa_

Today is a lot like yesterday. We wait and we wait, but there's nothing changes. It's like the world is spinning for everybody else, except us.

The difference today is that the shock from yesterday is gone, and this almost feels _normal_. Like we've settled in to the routine of waiting and visiting and hoping for the best but expecting the worst.

I think you've officially been at Coffee Bucks too many times when they begin preparing your order as soon as they see you approaching the door. Or when the barrista gives you that sympathetic head tilt and asks the question "Is there any news, Alyssa?" But between yesterday and this afternoon I've been down there so many times because it's something to do. There's nothing else I can do other than get drinks for everybody.

It's lame. I know.

Through the window of the NICU I see JD sitting beside the incubator of his daughter. He has his hand through one of the incubator doors and is holding on to one of my cousin's tiny little hands.

It feels as if everything that's going on right now just slapped me in the face.

I knock gently on the window on the NICU. It's difficult to describe the look on JD's face when he glances up to inspect the noise and sees me, but I could bet a hundred bucks that what ran through his head was that something had happened to Aunt Elliot. So I hold up the Coffee Bucks cup I've been carrying so it's visible through the window for reassurance.

A few moments later, JD is standing outside taking the coffee cup from me. "Thanks," he responds, his voice bearing the strain of all this.

"How is she?" I ask, looking back in the window.

"She's hanging in there. Is Elliot…?"

I nod. I'm not exactly sure what the question was there, but that seemed to be the right answer. "I'll let you know if there's anything."

"Thank you."

I begin to walk away.

"Lys?"

Spinning back around on my heel, I respond, "Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

I sigh heavily. "I guess."

"You should try to get some sleep," he then says. "You look tired."

I can't look any worse than you do. "I'll keep that in mind."

JD walks back in to the NICU. I walk towards the elevator.

In certain situations, there are questions that some people are not supposed to ask others. The others are supposed to ask the questions.

I'm back on the ICU floor now. But I don't walk to the waiting area. There's a quiet corridor on this floor and I'm walking in that direction.

It's like my legs are controlling me.

Once I'm far enough away from everything, I sit down. I just sit on the hospital floor like my legs can't physically move me any further. My head leans back on the wall and I close my eyes.

"Hey."

That's a few minutes later. I glance round. It's Michael. "Hey."

"I tired calling your cell, but it's switched off."

"Oh. I haven't switched it on yet today." As I heavily sigh, Michael sits down next to me. "Is it weird that I feel guilty because I got asked if I was okay?"

"What?"

"JD asked me is I was alright and I'm thinking that he probably has enough on his plate right now without worrying about other people. And I feel guilty. Is that weird?"

"A little, yeah," Michael answers, nodding his head. "But I get it. You shouldn't feel guilty. Really. Even though everything else is happening, they're still your aunt and cousin, and JD's still your uncle. He's still the same person that has been looking out you for months. And right now you really need someone looking out for you too."

I look up at him. "Isn't that what you're doing now?"

"Yeah."

"Thank you." I then rest my head on his shoulder.

"Did you get any sleep last night?"

I shake my head to say no. "I'm really tired."

"No kidding. You've been awake for more than twenty four hours."

As if it was induced by talk of tiredness, my eyelids feel heavy. My eyes close, but they open again when I move my head. That's not weird. But what is weird is that when I look around, I see the silhouette of my dad walking away back down the corridor.

* * *

_Alyssa_Everybody is now at the point where they have no idea what day it is or what time or anything. They just have no idea.

Or at least I don't.

But we've all been waiting like this for so long that it feels as if that's all we've ever done. That time when I was on the phone to Kate and Aunt Elliot shouted on me seems like a million years in the past.

I'm walking back into the main waiting area, a hot Coffee Bucks cup in my hand. I've drunk so much coffee recently that I wouldn't be surprised if there's a hole being burned in my stomach.

Is it wrong that right now, all I want is for something to happen, anything that just ends this limbo one way or another?

"Lys?"

Don't answer that.

"Yeah?" I say after I turn and see Turk.

"You didn't happen to see JD when you were at Coffee Bucks did you?"

"He's gone AWOL again, hasn't he?" Asked and answered.

Turk doesn't really have to say anything. "Let me know if you see him please?"

"Of course."

Once Turk is away again, I walk back in to the waiting room that's basically become home. The television is on, as it always is. I glance at it. The news. How fun.

"_The news headlines this Monday."_I stop what I'm doing – finding somewhere to sit.

It's Monday?

Crap.

* * *

_Alyssa_

It's raining.

Millar Park is a twenty-minute walk away from the hospital. It's quiet, not exactly surprising given the weather. The rain is so heavy that the drops are bouncing off the ground and the surface water runs down the concrete hills like waterfalls.

This is like trying to find a needle in a haystack. I've been along every path that I can think so far in this park, which is really difficult considering I don't know it that well. I could count on a single hand the amount of times I've been here.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe JD isn't going to be here. Or maybe he was and – in the time I've been wandering around – he's already gone back to the hospital.

I continue walking along my current path. I figure that if I walk along it for long enough, I'll eventually come to an exit. I really should get back now too before somebody starts worrying that I've left too. I didn't exactly say to anybody that I was leaving.

The view around this next corner is obscured by trees and bushes. Not that I'm particularly looking where I'm going. The rain is so heavy that I have to look down at the ground to be able to see anything, except for the times when I steal a glance ahead of me to make sure I'm not walking in to some thing.

And it's during one of those glances up that I find what I've been looking for this whole time.

On a bench a few feet down the hill, I can see JD sitting. He's just sitting there, apparently completely oblivious to the weather and anyone walking by him right now probably wouldn't even realise that his whole world is crashing down around him. They'd just think he was a bit strange for sitting outside in the rain.

Jeez.

I walk down the hill, but at the same time I'm wondering what exactly you're supposed to say in this situation. And then I realise that I'm actually standing at the bench now, so I need to say something.

"Is this where you're going to propose?" It's the first thing that went through my head.

JD nods. "You see that tree over there?"

I look to where he's pointing. There's an old oak tree.

"Not long before you arrived, Elliot and I spent the day here for no reason. We just did. All day. And it was then that I realised even with all the crap we'd put each other through in the past I really wanted to be with her."

Points if you can come up with something, _anything_ to say after that.

"You really should be at the hospital, you know." Again. First thing to run through my head.

"Why?" He snaps. "Because they need me to be there? I sure as hell wasn't there when Elliot was in labour, scared out of her mind. And I wasn't there when they rushed Elliot to surgery for a c-section. And I wasn't there when my daughter was born and they were fighting to keep her alive long enough to get her to the NICU. I wasn't there when they _really _needed me."

"That wasn't your fault."

"Yeah. Yeah it was. I agreed to do that conference because I thought it'd be nice to take Elliot away for the weekend. If I hadn't done that I would have been there," he tearfully says. "So yeah. It _is_ my fault."

"JD, nobody on God's green earth could've predicted what was going to happen. Nobody could've seen it coming. You can't blame yourself for that." It's almost pointless saying that, because I know as well as anybody that he's going to blame himself no matter what anybody says. "And this… it would have turned out the same way if you'd be been there."

"You know, I can't even remember the last thing that I said to her?"

Oh, my god.

"I can't remember the last thing I said to her. And now… she could, probably will, die and I can't remember the last thing I said to her."

And now I'm crying.

"I can't lose her. I can't lose _them."_

"You really should go back to the hospital," I say again. I'm like a broken record. And before he even has a chance to protest with his self-blaming, I add, "Because if something else happens to them and you're not there… you're going to hate yourself forever. And you're too good a person for that to happen to. You should go back to the hospital."

This is the point where you're supposed to say that it's all going to be okay, right? That's just what you say, isn't it? But for some reason, I just can't say that.

"You should really go back to the hospital."

He doesn't stand from the bench immediately, but he stares at that old oak tree.

"JD?" I say again a minute later.

"I just need a minute."

"Okay."

* * *

It was a bright sunny day, so naturally Millar Park was busy; something JD and Elliot wished they had thought about before setting off for an impromptu picnic of sorts.

With a sigh of frustration, Elliot remarked, "We've been walking around for a half hour and we still haven't found a place to sit. Maybe we should just go back."

JD's heart sank. In all honesty, he'd been excited for this outing more than he would ever have said. Those funny feelings for Elliot that he'd kept buried deep down for years – well, they were resurfacing stronger than ever before. He couldn't even begin to describe the happiness he felt when he got Elliot's call, asking if him he was free today. "Yeah, I guess." He was still looking at Elliot when a smile crept across her face.

"Or we could go and sit by that old oak tree."

Which is what they did.

JD's mind wandered while Elliot spoke about a patient that she'd had trouble diagnosing. They'd been spending so much more time together and they were better friends than they'd ever been. Which JD thought was the reason for the return of the feelings (although JD thinks they never really went away).

It's complicated between them, he knows that. They've got so much history, consisting mostly of them hurting each other. Badly. Over the past few years they've worked at building up a normal friendship. It would be so much to risk. Would it be too much?

He's got to the stage in his life where his mind often wanders to the future and what might happen. He thinks sometimes about what he wants out of life and what he wants to achieve. And here's the funny thing: whenever he looks in to the future, it's Elliot he sees.

"Hey." Elliot's voice snapped him out of his deep thought. "You okay? You seem like you've been carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders."

"Yeah, I'm okay. I've just…. Been thinking."

"What about?"

JD paused. If this were Turk or Carla, he'd make some answer up. But with Elliot? Somehow, with Elliot it's just easier to tell her the truth.

"The future. Do you get like that?"

Elliot nodded. "Yeah. Sometimes."

"Doesn't it just scare the crap out of you? Not knowing what's going to happen."

"I guess. But you know what? I think if I knew everything that was going to happen to me in the future, I'd never have the guts to get out of bed."

"But maybe if we knew what was going to happen, that everything was going to turn out okay, we wouldn't be so scared."

Elliot's eye widen slightly. "That _would_ be awesome. Because you know what we're both like. Two complete committophobes who both run at the first sign of anything real."

"Yeah. God, we were ridiculous as interns. But I like to think we've grown up since then."

"I hope so."

It's quiet for a little while, the two doctors pondering.

"Do you… do you think life's going to be okay for us?" Elliot asks.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think life's going to be great for us."

You know what? He's doing it. He's going to tell her how he feels. Someday soon, he thinks.

* * *

_Alyssa_It was only once I was back in the hospital that I realised how cold I was. The rainwater had soaked through my clothes completely. It was also dripping from my hair, literally dripping as if I'd just been in the shower. Luckily now I've been able to dry my hair any change to a spare pair of volunteer scrubs.

I'm still cold though, which is why I'm just returning from Coffee Bucks with a large cup of hot chocolate to try to warm me up.

I have just walked out of the stairwell, into the corridor towards the waiting room.

I hear footsteps running towards me. I look up.

It's Turk.

I'm worried.

"Lys, where's JD?" He speaks so quickly, I can barely separate the words.

"NICU, I think. Why?"

Turk doesn't answer me, but starts running again towards the elevator.

"Turk!"

He turns around, panic and urgency on his face. "Elliot's waking up."

"What?"

Turk doesn't answer me before the elevator door closes.

* * *


	31. My Uncertainty

_AN: Once again, I apologise profusely for the epic delay in updating this. Real life getting in the way, you know the drill. But I've finally got this completed. I'm not a fan of this chapter at all. Just so you know. And my medical knowledge is sketchy at best._

_I will try to get the next chapter completed ASAP. I pretty much know exactly how it's going to go, I just need to write it. But seeing as I'm snowed in today (No, seriously, I am. British Summer Time began last Sunday and it's snowing here. Waiting for the power outage at any moment. And I'm pretty sure my neighbour's telephone cable just broke under the weight on the snow) I'm going to have a power writing session and try to get as much of it written as possible. That is, of course, dependent on actually having working electricity.  
_

_Ramblings aside, here's the chapter. :)_

**

* * *

My Uncertainty**

**Dr Cox**

It started out as nothing more than a quiet sigh.

I was looking down at the chart, studying it fervently, looking for any sign of improvement. No luck, I had thought. And then there was a noise, quiet as all get out and only for a split second. I looked up, but there was nothing to indicate the source of the noise. I just dismissed what I'd heard as tiredness and stress getting to me.

So, I walked over to the monitor and drip stand. I was looking at them and noting things down on the chart, and I heard the noise again, but louder this time. I stopped what I was doing, and I watched. I just watched Barbie.

And what do you know. Barbie actually opened her eyes.

At first, there was no recognition in her eyes, like there was something clouding her vision. She blinked a few times, while looking around the room, trying to register her surroundings. And then it hit - the fear spread across her features like some kind of tidal wave.

Oh god, she started to panic.

"Barbie. Look at me," I said sternly, like I would speak to a nervous intern during their first code. "Look. At. Me."

Miraculously, she did, but by god was she terrified.

"You're okay. Look at me, Elliot. You're okay."

There were more choking sounds. She was trying to speak.

And then I cursed myself for forgetting. "Somebody get Newbie!" I bellowed.

Thanks to Ghandi and his insane ability to run faster than I've ever seen anybody run before in this hospital, Newbie gets here just as I de-intubate Barbie. She coughs and splutters as terror-induced tears roll down her face.

Newbie stands shell-shocked at the door.

"Well, what the hell are you doing there? Calm her down, damn it!" I snap at him.

The moment that follows… well, I think it's a moment that will stick with me until the day I die.

Newbie walks over to Barbie, takes her hand and lowers himself so his face isn't far from hers, and she grabs his hand so tightly.

"The baby," she whispers, her throat obviously hoarse from intubation. "The baby. What happened? Where's the baby?"

Newbie brushes some of the hair away from her face. "She's in the NICU. Oh, Elliot, she's so tiny but she's so beautiful. And she's such a little fighter."

"She?"

"Yeah," Newbie smiles. "You were right, Mommy." He stretches over and kisses Barbie's cheek. "Thank you for waking up for me."

"I'll give you two a minute," I say before walking out of the room, but I don't think I was even a blip on their radar.

Here's something funny: this… this weird feeling runs through me. It's like when I was an intern, at the end of a code. I lean against the nearest wall, close my eyes and curse.

"Dr Cox?"

I glance round and see a rather fraught looking Carla.

"She's okay, Carla. Newbie's in there with her. She's okay. Obviously terrified but otherwise okay."

"Oh, thank god."

Like me, Carla starts leaning against the wall. A minute or so later: "Aren't you going to tell everybody else?"

"I just need a minute to calm down."

Carla just nods.

* * *

_**JD**_

Elliot's awake.

Oh my god, she's awake. Thank god.

"Well, what the hell are you doing there?" Dr Cox barks. "Calm her down, damn it!"

Elliot grips my hand tighter than she's ever held it before. There's so much fear in her eyes. "The baby. The baby. What happened? Where's the baby?"

"She's in the NICU. Oh, Elliot, she's so tiny but she's so beautiful. And she's such a little fighter."

Elliot looks at me, and for a second, the fear in her eyes isn't there. Just for a second it's happiness. "She?"

"Yeah. You were right, Mommy. Thank you for waking up for me. Elliot, I am so sorry I wasn't here when you needed me. I'm so sorry I wasn't there."

"It doesn't matter, JD. I don't care."

"I should have been there for you."

"You would have been if you could. And I don't care. I just want to know about the baby. What weight is she?"

"Two pounds two ounces."

Elliot's eyes fill up quickly again. "Oh my god."

"She's on a ventilator and in an incubator too. But she's been stable since she was born; she just needs a bit extra help."

Wiping tears away from her face, Elliot quietly says, "But she's so small."

"She has really long toes."

Elliot smiles. "My finger toes."

"Yeah. And she has my nose. She's so beautiful, Elliot. I can't wait for you to meet our daughter."

"Me neither," Elliot calmly responds. But then in a heartbeat, her demeanour changes and she's in floods of tears. "I'm sorry. It's just- just-" Then she's crying so much I don't think she can finish what she was going to say. I can guess what it is though.

"It's okay. It's okay." I try hugging her best I can without inflicting any more pain. "You're okay."

The funny thing is it's not a gut-wrench or heartache I feel listening to Elliot sob. It's relief.

* * *

**_Carla_**

Perry stands beside me, trying to calm himself, for a whole ten minutes before he goes to tell everyone else about Elliot. He doesn't speak at any point during that time. He just stands there. It's really unsettling. I've never seen him like that before.

It's been another hour since then. The last time I was up by the ICU, JD was in the room with Elliot. And there was no way in hell I was going to intrude then. They needed their time together.

Now that I'm back in the ICU, I notice that JD is no longer in Elliot's room. He must be back at the NICU. Elliot is just staring ahead of her into oblivion.

I open the door to her room gently. "Hey. How're you feeling?"

Elliot shakes her head. "I'm trying to get my head around all this and it doesn't make sense."  
"It doesn't make any sense for those of us who have been conscious all this time. I can't even begin to imagine how screwed up your head is right now."

"Carla, what happened? Right before my baby was born, what happened?"

Of course she was going to ask that question. I sigh. "In all honesty, there are parts that are sketchy. There was so much going on. I had been outside of your room, talking to Alyssa. She had just left to go to the conference centre to find JD because nobody could get a hold of him on his cell phone. I was trying to get myself together again; we were all freaking out and frazzled and I figured you needed a friend to be strong for you, so I couldn't start panicking. Then you gave this almighty scream, so I went back in to your room. You were panicking; the baby's heart rate monitor was going crazy. The obstetrician came in and the next thing they were wheeling you down to surgery for the c-section. When you were down there, you were more sedate but you were obviously scared out of your mind. Then… then it all went crazy. One second you were there, saying 'make sure the baby's okay' and then the next you were gone. After that is just a blur. I remember they got that baby out of quickly, but she didn't cry or scream. They had her cleaned up and away to the NICU by the time they'd brought you back."

"She didn't cry?"

"Not even a little bit. She's a tough little thing. And she really has JD's nose, doesn't she?"

"You saw her?"

"Yean. Her incubator's pretty close to the NICU window. You haven't been down yet?"

"No, they won't let me out of this freaking bed. I'm going crazy up here."

I frown at her. "I can imagine. I'm sure they'll let you go down soon. God, if they keep you here for long, you'll get up and go yourself."

"How well does the nursing staff respond to bribery?"

"Just tell them I'll kick their asses if they say anything."

Elliot laughs. "Thanks, Carla. Really, thank you for everything. Thank you for being there for us, thanks for being there when I've never been more scared in my life. I don't know how I'll ever be able to thank you enough."

"Don't be ridiculous, Elliot. You don't have to thank me. What do you think best friends are for?"

"Thank you."

"You're a mom now, Elliot. How does it feel?"

Frowning, Elliot answers, "Ask me again in a few hours when I've had a chance to meet my daughter."

* * *

_**JD**_

Four hours have passed. Feels like minutes.

Having just been down to the NICU to see the baby, I'm heading back in to Elliot's room. She has a really intense stare when I walk into the room. Her jaw's clenched like it is when she's angry, or frustrated. Her nails are digging into the palms of her hands.

"Hey," I say. "You okay?" Stupid question.

"No."

"I didn't think so."

"JD, where's Alyssa?"

"I'd assumed she had come up here."

Elliot shakes her head. "Where is she? I need to talk to her. I need to make sure she's okay. She hasn't been here and I haven't spoken to her since before. I need to check she's okay." I can tell she's annoyed by the way her hand goes up to her mouth.

"It's okay. Shh. I'll go and find her for you."

"Thank you."

I eventually find Alyssa at one of the pay phones at the opposite end of the hospital. She's talking to somebody, so I stand well back. I don't want to eavesdrop on her conversation.

She hangs up the phone a few minutes later and turns around. "Oh," she says quite suddenly when she notices me. The funny thing is she's looking down at the ground. "Hi."

"Elliot's asking to see you," I say.

I can't quite describe the look on Alyssa's face when I say that. Terror, maybe? "Yeah, I was going to go along there once I finish making these calls."

"Lys, she's really agitated and desperate to make sure you're all right."

"I've just got to make these calls."

"They could wait."

Alyssa just shakes her head, but looks right down at the ground.

"Alyssa, what's-"

"I'm not going, okay?" She suddenly blurts out.

"What the hell?!"

"I can't…. I'm not going down there," Alyssa mutters. "Not now. I mean, I will go down. Later, though. Because I need to call my granddad and then I need to call my dad and then-"

"Alyssa, it's been four hours and you haven't been up to see Elliot. And I know that's not you. I can tell you're freaked out beyond words. Trust me, I know the feeling. But I think you'll feel better if you just go up and see her. So please? If not for yourself, then at least go upstairs for Elliot."

Alyssa stares at the ground, silent, rocking backwards and forwards on her heels slightly. This isn't the Alyssa I know Right now she just seems like an empty shell of herself. Like the pressure of everything has taken all the life from her.

After a few more moments of silence: "Okay. I'll go."

"Thank you."

Alyssa is completely silent as she follows me back to the ICU. I glance back every few seconds, just to make sure she hasn't run off. Being petrified, I get that. I completely understand how she's feeling. But I really don't understand why Alyssa would hide out in the other side of the hospital. It doesn't seem like her.

We're at Elliot's room now. I once again look around at Alyssa. My god, she looks terrified. She's pale as all get out and staring down at the ground. And I think she might actually be shaking.

"Are you alright?" Stupid question number two.

"Yeah," Alyssa mumbles. Even the most gullible person in the world wouldn't believe her.

And just like that, Alyssa walks into the room as if there was no issue, no problem. As if she hasn't been hiding out across the other side of the hospital just to avoid going in there. There's a lot about the last few days that doesn't make a hell of a lot of sense. This is just another one of those things on that list.

The door doesn't close all the way behind Alyssa. I can hear what's being said.

"Um, hi," Alyssa timidly says, looking straight down at the floor. "How are you feeling?" I guess that's as good a question as any to start off with.

"I'm in a lot of pain, and my head's all over the place. But I guess I'm okay. Are you alright? Have you eaten? Slept?"

Alyssa just shrugs.

That's not right.

"I should probably warn you that Granddad and Grandma are gonna get here tomorrow. And they know."

The look of dread on Elliot's face says it all. "They know? Who told them?"

"Dr Cox," Alyssa answers. "He had to tell them because… well, you know."

"Did you speak to Granddad?"

"Yeah. Sort of."

"How was he? Did he sound mad?"

"I think under the circumstances there wasn't exactly much room to be mad."

There's silence. Alyssa hasn't looked up from the ground once. Like I said, that's not right.

"Lys, are… are you okay?" Obviously Elliot has noticed it too.

"And I think Granddad said that Uncle Billy and Bradley and Barry were flying out here but I don't know when." Talk about deflection.

"Alyssa."

"And my dad's been to visit too. He'll probably be back later on again today. And –"

"Alyssa!" Elliot snaps.

"What?!"

"You're chattering away like a lunatic. And you only do that when you're stressed or upset or there's something else wrong. So, come on, what's wrong?"

Looking at Alyssa, it's like you can almost see the wheels in her brain working. "It's nothing."

Elliot shakes her head. "Lys, I know you. It's not 'nothing'."

"It's… it is nothing. In the scheme of things it's ridiculously low on the totem pole."

"Don't be stupid, whatever it is, just tell me. I'm really worried."

I'm not sure how long it takes for Alyssa to answer, and when she does, it's hardly worth it. "It's just… nothing." Then, weirdly, she turns around, so she's not even facing Elliot.

"Honey, you won't even look at me."

All of a sudden like a switch has been flicked, Alyssa loses it completely. Honest to god, the girl's in floods of tears.

"Oh, sweetie, it's okay. Come here," Elliot says to Alyssa in that caring, motherly tone that honestly astonishes me.

What's even more surprising given how Alyssa's been in the last little while is that she walks over to Elliot without hesitation. She sits on the edge of the bed, obviously conscious not to do anything that might hurt her aunt.

Elliot hugs Alyssa the best she can without causing herself any more pain. "It's okay. You can tell me."

"I thought," Alyssa hiccups," I thought you were going to die. And then I realised that my dad's going to die soon too and I thought –" another hiccup – "I thought 'what the hell is going to happen if when you both die and I don't have anybody?'. And then I realised how selfish that was because, like, you were on a life support machine and I was thinking about myself. I thought you were going to die."

With a really deep frown on her face, Elliot wipes some of the tears away from Alyssa's face. "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. Hey, it's not selfish thinking like that. It's not, honey. You were scared. It's only natural you'd think like that. Don't beat yourself up, okay?"

Alyssa chokes out something that I think was supposed to be 'okay'.

"And listen to me, okay? I'm sorry I scared you. I'm so sorry. But I'm not going anywhere for a while yet. I'm so sorry."

Alyssa nods, but is still hysterical.

"It's okay," Elliot says. "Just let it out, it's okay."

I manage to catch Elliot's gaze while she's still hugging Alyssa. She smiles slightly at me.

"You okay?" I mouth to her, and she nods.

After that, I walk back to the NICU to see my daughter.

* * *

About an hour later, I walk back up to the ICU and to Elliot's room. It's a different scene now than earlier. Alyssa's sitting on the chair in the room. They both seem to just be chatting. Looking in the room, you would never think that a little while ago, one of them was so scared to talk to the other.

"And when I get out of here, we are going shopping for your prom dress. Oh, and your graduation dress."

"What's the point of a graduation dress anyway?" Alyssa asks, pulling a face. "Nobody sees your dress under all the robes anyway."

"I know, but at least you'll look pretty for going to parties after."

"Good point."

"Clothes talk again, I see."

Both Reid girls snap their heads round suddenly and have the same semi-shocked look on their faces that proves they're related. I wonder if my little girl will develop that same expression.

"When did you get back here?" Elliot asks, feigning annoyance.

"Yeah, dude, you scared us."

"Sowwy." Back to normal voice: "Hey Lys, I was walking by the cafeteria and I noticed that they're serving Mac and Cheese."

"It's Mac and Cheese day? I love Mac and Cheese day."

"Go and get something to eat then, honey," Elliot says.

"It's okay, I can wait."

"Please. Your stomach rumbled twenty times in the last half an hour."

"That was you?" I chip in. "I thought the hospital was being hit by a series of little earthquakes."

"What is this, pick on Alyssa day or something?"

"It will be until you go and get something to eat. Go, go, shift, move it. But... come back later, so I have someone to talk to."

"Sure. I'm going to hoover down this Mac and cheese. I'll be back in ten minutes."

Alyssa stands up, and then hugs her aunt, before walking out the room.

"She looks really tired."

"I'm not surprised. I don't think she's slept at all since Saturday."

Elliot frowns. "JD, make sure she leaves here tonight. Make sure she gets out of this hospital for me."

"Yeah, I will."

"How's the baby?"

A smile creeps across my face. "She's doing well. Really well. She had a really good grip of my finger."

"That's really good."

"It's amazing."

"You should go back down there. You should be with her. She needs someone with her more than I do."

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay with you for a little while?"

"I'm okay. I just need to know that someone is with the baby."

"Okay." I stand up and kiss Elliot's cheek. "I'll come back to see you in a little while."

"Okay."

When I'm at the door, I turn back to face Elliot. "I love you."

"I love you too."

* * *

_Dr Cox_

It's getting towards the end of my shift, and I'm looking forward to getting home tonight. After all, it's been another long day.

The ICU is quieter now that it's later on in the evening. There are no visitors here now. There are fewer staff too, many of those that were working overtime just to be some kind of moral support and to take the weight of some of the workload, knowing that the entire staff was somewhat distracted.

You wouldn't believe the amount of people that have asked me how Barbie is since she woke up. Even staff members that I haven't seen up here before or even seen Barbie or Newbie. It speaks wonders about how this hospital works.

Speaking of Barbie, I'm just walking past her hospital room. I glance in the window. Newbie isn't in there, and neither are Turk or Carla. And Barbie, well, she's sobbing in there. Hardly surprising.

Sighing, I open the door in to Barbie's room. When she realises that I'm walking into the room, she tries to pull herself together and hide any sign that she's been crying.

"Barbie, I know you were just crying. You don't have to hide it."

She scoffs. "From the man who has kept a record of the amount of times I've broken down I this hospital? Yeah, I think I do."

"I think I can let this one slide." Truth be told, I don't keep a track of how many times she cries anymore. Even if I did, what kind of sadistic bastard would really hold crying against her when she has a kid down in the NICU and has just woken up from death's door herself? "He didn't know what to do, you know," I say to Barbie, after a few moments of silence. "If he was down with the baby he felt guilty about not being with you and if he was with you he felt guilty about not being with the baby. It was… horrible. I never want to see Newbie like that again. Speaking of Newbie, where is he?"

"NICU," Barbie chokes out. "I told him to go down there because I can't stand the thought of her being there on her own."

I walk over slowly to the chair in the room and sit down. "It's not easy when it's your own little one that's ill, is it?"

Barbie nods. "She's three days old. My own daughter's three days old and I haven't met her yet because they won't let me the hell out of this bed. What the hell kind of mother hasn't met her own kid?"

Before I have a chance to answer, my pager goes off. "Sorry, Barbie, I have to take this one. I'll come back to check you before the end of my shift.

Barbie nods. I think it's all she can do for the crying.

I walk out of the room, in the direction of my destination.

To hell with that.

* * *

_**JD**  
_  
The baby has a good grip of my finger again, a really good grip. For someone so small, it's amazing how tightly she can keep a hold.

"Dr Dorian."

I snap out of my focus on the baby, and notice that one of the NICU nurses has walked in. I hadn't even noticed. "Yes?"

"Dr Cox just called. He asked me to tell you to go up to the ICU. Immediately."

The word 'immediately' causes the panic to flood through me. "Why? What's wrong? Has something happened to Elliot?"

The nurse seems terrified at my panicked tone. "I don't know. All he said was 'Tell Dorian to come up here now'. I don't know anything else."

Time seems to slow down. The three minutes it takes me to get back up to the ICU seems so much longer. I get there. Eventually. Dr Cox is standing outside Elliot's room.

"Dr Cox, what's going on?" I ask quickly, trying to catch my breath.

He looks at me with one of his trademark sarcastic expressions and suddenly the panic disappears. "What the hell, did you just run a marathon or something?"

"Hey, there are a lot of stairs to run up from the NICU."

"Right." Dr Cox nods. "And _why_ exactly where you running?"

"The nurse said to get up here immediately. I thought there was something wrong."

"Sure sure."

"Seriously, what's going on here?"

Dr Cox doesn't answer vocally. Instead he whistles, and gestures in the direction of Elliot's room. I follow him in there then look at Elliot who looks just as confused as I am.

"Dr Cox?" She hesitantly asks.

Facing me, Dr Cox begins. "This, Newbie, is a wheelchair. It's what _you_ are going use to transport _her _down to the NICU to meet your child, while the staff here, under threat of death, turn a blind eye to the fact that Barbarella is not in her room."

"Dr Cox, this… Didn't Dr Smith specifically say full bed rest?" Elliot asks, obviously trying not to get her hopes up.

"Let me deal with Dr Smith. Just get your asses down to see that kid of yours."

It takes a good few minutes (and a lot of pain) to get Elliot into that wheelchair, and she gets more frustrated by the second. Trust me, if Elliot was in any fit state to be walking – let alone running – she'd be sprinting down these halls. But all that frustration and anger disappears once we're good to go.

"Dr Cox, thank you so much for doing this for us. But why?"

"Well, I remember how difficult it was when Jennifer Dylan was in that same NICU and I can't begin to imagine what it's like for sitting up here and not being allowed to see your daughter. Hell, if I hadn't brought the wheelchair, before long you would have just tried to get yourself down to the NICU, probably causing yourself even more damage. And we can't have that."

"Thank you, Dr Cox."

"You're welcome. But, uh... say word was to get out that Old Uncle Cox was doling out the favours, well... I'll make you pay. Big time. Pay. Like... like... Oh, who am I kidding? Go! Just, just, just go!"

Again, I say "Thank you Dr Cox, sincerely," even though tonight he'll probably be reaching for the bottle of scotch to erase this moment from his memory.

* * *

**_JD_**

"Are you okay?" I ask Elliot, as I push her wheel chair down the corridor towards the NICU. "Are you in pain?"

"Yeah," Elliot scoffs. "A lot. But I really don't care. I just want to see the baby."

"Elliot, I have to warn you. She's really tiny. She's hooked up to a respirator. It's really distressing when you first see her."

Elliot frowns at me. "JD, it can't be any worse than not knowing what she looks like at all. I've been going insane up there. I need to see her, no matter how horrifying it is. I need to see her."

"Okay."

When we go into the NICU, Elliot looks around the room. She look around like she's not a doctor, like she hasn't seen all these machines before and she hasn't spent years studying the science behind everything that's in here. It's like she's just any other parent whose child is in the NICU.

"And this," I say when we get to our baby's incubator, "is our daughter."

"This is her?"

"Yeah."

Elliot looks at the baby again, then puts her hand through the incubator door to hold one of the baby's tiny hands. "You really are tiny, aren't you? Hi, little girl. It's me. It's Mommy. I am so so sorry that I haven't been here for you before now. I am so so sorry." Elliot wipes a stray tear away from her face. "It wasn't because I didn't want to be here and I promise I'm going to be here as much as I can from now on. I promise you. You're a beautiful little girl. You really do have Daddy's nose, don't you?"

"She does. The girl will need to have a big personality to pull that off."

"Yeah," Elliot laughs. "But hopefully you won't be as neurotic as I am, right baby girl? But it runs in the family, so we'll have to wait and see. Because you're a little fighter, aren't you? You're going to fight."

"She's been doing well so far."

"I know. And Mommy's really proud of you for that. Keep up the good work, baby. I know you're scared, but you don't need to be. Mom and Dad are here. We're going to look after you. We'll protect you. We love you so much."

"You know, we need to choose a name for this little one."

"Do you have the list?"

"Right here in my pocket."

About four weeks ago (seems like an eternity ago), Elliot and I sat down and made a list of our top three names for a boy and top three names for a girl. Not that we need that list of boys' names.

"Okay. Name one on the list: Lauren."

Elliot looks down at our daughter and frowns. "She just doesn't look like a Lauren."

"Name number two: Milly."

"Milly? Were we eating cookies when we wrote this list?"

"I think so," I answer. "So that one's out too?"

"Yep. Which I guess leaves us with..."

"Riley."

"Riley," Elliot repeats. She looks round at the baby. "Riley Dorian. I like it."

"Me too."

"What do you think, little one?"

The baby grips on to Elliot's finger.

"I'd say that's a hit."

"Hey, Riley," Elliot says. "Do you like your name, huh? That's good."

"What about a middle name for Riley?"

A few seconds later, Elliot answers. "I want to name her after Carla."

"Have her middle name be Carla?"

"Yeah. Carla's one of our best friends. She's got us through so much. She always been there for us, and she was there for me when I've never been more terrified in my life. I'm never going to be able to thank her enough. But I guess I want to honour her by giving our daughter her name."

"Riley Carla Dorian. Sounds good to me."

"JD, I think we just named our baby girl."

"We just did." I gently hug Elliot. "We just named our daughter."

* * *

_Alyssa_

It's bright. It's morning.

That would imply that I've actually managed to fall asleep at some point. Why is that so surprising? Oh… right.

Hold on. This isn't my room. This definitely is not my room.

There's blue on the walls. My walls don't have blue on them. My walls have…. Well, right now my walls have…. I have no idea what's on my walls, but it's not blue.

Hold on.

This is Michael's room.

But how the hell did I get here?

I get up, and realise that I'm not in my black scrubs that I was wearing before, but in a baggy football top and shorts – makeshift pyjamas. Okay, so they're not _my_ clothes. But whatever.

There's nobody upstairs, but I can hear faint noise coming from downstairs, so I go there. I head towards the dining room where I can see people.

I walk in and see Michael and his mom sitting at the table. I walk in, and it's his mom – Meredith - that sees me first.

"Hi, honey. How did you sleep?"

"Well, I slept, which is an achievement in itself," I answer.

Michael looks at me as I sit down at the table. "You look confused."

"I am. The last thing I can recall, I was at the hospital. And somehow I'm here. How did I get here?"

"Well…"

**Michael McConaghy walked out of Sacred Heart Hospital after his evening volunteering shift. It hadn't been the average shift. There was barely a member of staff whose head wasn't somewhere else from time to time. He'd had to deal with patients who were irritated by the delays in their appointment, another knock on effect from having two of the doctors incapacitated. And trying to explain to some patients that Dr Reid wouldn't be treating them today because she herself was ill just wasn't going down well. Michael (and Kate for that matter) had had half a mind to drag them up to the ICU to let them see for themselves. Some people are just irritating. And on top of that, every little while, he was actually going up to the ICU himself to talk to Alyssa and see how she was coping. Speaking of whom…**

****

The blonde teenager was sitting on the bench opposite the entrance to the hospital. She was crying.

Hoping that something hadn't happened which he hadn't heard about, Michael walked over to his girlfriend. "Alyssa. You okay? What happened?"

She looked up at him, and Michael noticed how exhausted she looked. She looked ill, almost. In fact, she probably wasn't far away from ill. She hadn't slept in days, and had barely eaten.

"I can't find my car keys," Alyssa sobbed.

Michael thought that she wasn't in any fit state to be driving anyway. "It's okay. I can drive you."

"But… but…"

"Lys?"

Alyssa then burst into hysterical crying.

"Lys, what is it?"

"I can't get into home because my house keys are attached to my car keys so I don't know where they are either."

"It's okay," he said, hugging her and rubbing her back to comfort her. "It's alright. I'll take you to mine, you can stay there."

The crying stopped.

"Lys?"

No response. She had crashed out.

Michael sighed. "Just as well you didn't try to drive yourself home." He picked her up and carried her to his car.

"Right. Yeah, I have no recollection of that whatsoever," I say. "But thank you."

"You're welcome," Michael smiles.

"And now for stupid question number two: What day is it?"

"Wow, your brain really has gone to pot, hasn't it?" Meredith says. "It's Tuesday."

"Tuesday?" I repeat. "Oh dear."

"Oh dear?"

"Yeah. My grandparents are supposed to arrive today, and they are not going to be happy people. Actually they are going to be very angry people. It's a long story."

"Wow," Meredith mutters. "Do we want to know?"

"Probably not."

"Okay then. I'll go and make some coffee." Meredith gets up and walks through to the kitchen.

"Today will either go extremely well, or it will go extremely badly," I sigh.

"I've met your granddad. He's scary. My money's on it going extremely badly."

I nod. "Yeah. Mine too. The chemistry final was yesterday wasn't it?"

Michael frowns. "Yeah."

"How did it go?"

"It was okay. You would have sailed through it."

"That makes me feel better."

"Sorry," Michael responds. "Kate and I spoke to the principal about why you weren't there. He said he would try to figure something out for you to get your grade. I think they're going to appeal with your mock exam grade."

"I hope I get it," I sigh sadly. "There's no way I could've done that exam yesterday. That exam was the last thing on my mind."

"Do you know what time your grandparents are going to get here?"

"Nope. Today's going to be a long day," I sigh, then I remember that happened the last time I thought that.

* * *

**_Turk_**

I didn't realise how much the last few days had taken out of me until I woke up this morning – after 10 hours sleep – still absolutely exhausted. And yet, here I am in the hospital, working. I'm not doing surgery, thankfully, but there's a pile of paperwork the size of Everest to catch up on, which is what I'm doing at the ICU nurses' station.

"Hello, Christopher."

On hearing that familiar voice, I look up to see Dan, JD's brother, standing above me.

"Dan! What's up? I didn't know you were heading out here."

"Dr Cox called me and told me about Elliot and the baby. I figured Johnny might need some support out here. The earliest flight I could get was this morning," Dan sighs. "So. How is everyone?" Dan asks, with concern I've never heard from him before.

"Elliot's awake now. Off the ventilator and seems to be out of the woods, medically. The baby was stable overnight and has been since she was born. Critical but stable." I answer. "But JD was an absolute mess. He's been holding it together pretty well since Elliot woke up, but before then…" I just shake my head. Explains it all.

"I'll bet. What about Elliot's niece? How has she been?"

"Not great, understandably." I glance to the side for no real reason and as coincidence would have it, I notice Alyssa walking in to the ICU. "Speak of the devil. You're looking healthier than you did yesterday," I say to her when she makes it to the nurses' station.

"It's amazing what a good night's sleep and a decent meal can do for you." She glances to the side and says hi to Dan, before doing a double take. "Manchild?"

"That's right, Pain In The Ass. What's up? And why, in God's name, would you even wear a Jonas Brothers t-shirt?"

Alyssa rolls her eyes. "Damn. I was hoping nobody would notice that."

"It's kinda hard to miss," I chip in.

"It was one of only two things of Michael's thirteen-year-old sister's that would fit me."

"What was the other option?"

"A Twilight t-shirt."

"Ouch," I mumble.

"You don't like Twilight?"

"God, no."

"Yeah, it's a little known fact that if you ever see Alyssa reading one of those books, it's a sign of the apocalypse."

Dan raises an eyebrow. "What's your issue with the sparkly vampires?"

"The fact that they _sparkle!_ They're an embarrassment to vampires. And I've read a Dr Acula screenplay!"

Dan looks at me and gestures toward Alyssa, pulling a 'What a fruitcake' face.

"Oh. And your grandparents have arrived, by the by."

_"Already?"_ Alyssa asks worriedly. "Crap. How did my granddad seem?"

"To say he looked pissed would be putting it too lightly."

"Oh god. Has he seen Elliot or JD yet?"

"Nope. Elliot is pretending to be sleeping, and last I heard JD was hiding in a supply closet somewhere on the third floor."

"Why exactly would Johnny be hiding from Elliot's dad?"

"I'll take this one," Alyssa nods. "Well, my granddad didn't know a thing about my aunt being pregnant until Dr Cox called after… well, just, after."

"He didn't know anything?"

"Not. A. Thing."

"Wow," Dan mutters. "What a way to find out."

"I know. You can see why he'd be mad."

"Speaking of which…" I nervously interrupt.

Elliot's dad walks around the corner and spies Alyssa immediately.

"Alyssa Madeleine Reid," he says sternly. "I think we should be having a little chat, don't you?"

"Dude, did you just get _middle named?" _Dan asks.

"This'll end well for me," Alyssa sighs, rolling her eyes. "Well, guys, it was nice knowing you. Sincerely, it's been a blast." With the gait of someone who's about to face the firing squad, Alyssa walks towards her, admittedly, very angry looking grandfather.

"Wow. I'm so glad I am not her," Dan says. "He looked like he was about to kill her."

"You should have seen how angry he was at JD for standing up to Elliot's parents when they were being mean to her. And that was long before they hid a pregnancy from him."

Shaking his head, Dan says, "The brown stuff is well and truly going to hit. The. Fan." Before Dan had even completed his sentence, his cell phone had begun ringing. "It's my mom. Better take this." Answering his cell, Dan walks away down the corridor.

I turn my attention back to my paper work.

"Turk!"

I hear the voice – the quiet voice – but I don't see whose it is. That's not for lack of looking.

"Psst! Turk, over here."

Eventually I match the person to the voice and see Elliot standing at the door of her room.

I get up from behind the nurses' station and walk over to her. "Elliot, I don't think you're supposed to be up on your feet."

"Yeah, I'm not," she answers quickly. "Have you seen my parents nearby?"

"Your dad was about a few minutes ago, and he took Alyssa away for, and I quote, 'a little chat'."

Elliot cringes. "His little chats are the worst. That's when you know he's really mad. Look, if you see either one of my parents before I do could you tell them I want to see them. I'm done hiding. It's beyond stupid now."

"If I see them, I'll let them know."

"Thanks. Oh, and is JD still cowering in fear somewhere?"

"Most likely. Want me to find him for you?"

"Please," Elliot answers. "And tell him to bring a wheelchair."

"Okay."

Then, I'm not really sure how to describe the feeling that takes over me just now, but I hug Elliot. "You scared the crap out of us, Elliot. Don't do that again."

Elliot hugs me back. "I'll try not to."

"Promise?"

"Promise. And hey, as soon as Riley's out of the NICU and we can take other visitors to see her, you and Carla and going to be the first people we take… because it means more to us that you guys get to meet her than it does for anyone else to meet her. You guys and Alyssa."

"You mean that?"

"Turk, JD and I just named our daughter after your wife. Of course I mean it."

I hug Elliot again.

* * *

_Alyssa_

"So are you going to say anything?" I tentatively ask my granddad as I follow him through the hospital.

Apparently not.

This is actually scarier than if he was yelling at me.

"Seriously, Granddad where are we going?"

He doesn't answer, but eventually stops at a door. "Why don't you go in and take a seat?"

And this is how I'm going to die… I walk into the room. One of the conference rooms that's hardly ever used. That's another sign of the degree to how not well this is going to end. I'm being taken in to a room where there aren't any witnesses. There's just a whimpering sound in my head

"Alyssa, why don't you take a seat," my granddad says. "Next to your uncle Barry."

I look up and, indeed, notice Uncle Barry sitting at the table.

"Uncle Barry, what are you doing here?" That's what I say, trying to seem completely naïve.

"Give it up, Alyssa. I know that he _also_ did not tell me about your aunt Elliot being pregnant."

"So, _that's_ what this is about." That's right, I'm acting oblivious.

"Of course that's what this is about. Now sit down."

"Right." I sit down immediately. You don't ignore my granddad when he's in this mood.

And now he's just pacing back and forth in the room. No talking, just pacing.

"Why is he not talking?" I quietly say to Uncle Barry, but it's not him who answers.

"We are waiting on your grandmother."

"And she's sober." Uncle Barry adds.

"Holy shit." It out before I can even stop myself saying it.

"Alyssa!"

"Yeah, yeah. Language. I know."

My granddad shuts up.

And so we wait for my grandma. And wait. And wait. And wait and wait and wait. Does my grandma show up? No…

"Look, is Mom ever going to get here so you can start giving us a lecture?" Uncle Barry asks. "Because honestly, the suspense is killing us."

"Yeah," I agree.

My granddad sighs. "Very well. I'll begin without her."

Oh god. And I thought I was scared before…

"So I was sitting in my office the other day when I received a phone call from a Dr Cox. Imagine my surprise, scratch that, my _shock_ when – "

"Granddad, you can spare us the background details. I was standing beside Dr Cox when he called you. I know what happened."

_Mistake._ "I know you know what happened, Alyssa. We all know what happened. That's not my issue. My issue is how the hell could nobody tell me that my own daughter was pregnant? Why did I only find out when some doctor I don't know called my office to tell me that her and her baby were critically ill?"

"In our defence we _tried_ to get her to tell you beforehand," Uncle Barry says. "And I know she was going to tell you at Christmas but," he pauses, and looks at me, "well, _other_ stuff was revealed that took priority."

"Which leads me to ask you this question, Granddad: Do you _really_ want to give _me_ a lecture about not disclosing life-changing information? Because I still have a lot of questions about that which I have been harbouring for a good few months that I would really to ask you. Like, when we were in Connecticut, I overheard you saying to my dad 'you need to tell her and soon'. Question one: How long did you know about my dad's deadly brain tumour before I found out about that?"

With his demeanour more sheepish than before, he answers, "I knew before your dad sent you to live with your aunt Elliot."

"Right." Note the sarcasm. "Question two: Why didn't you tell me before Christmas?"

"He asked me not to."

"_Funny that!"_

"That was different!" My granddad snaps.

With an eyebrow raised, my Uncle Barry asks, "Yeah…. _How?_ Because it wasn't _quite_ as immediate, perhaps?_"_

There's hesitation, like my Granddad's trying to formulate a half-decent response. "I should have been told about Elliot."

"Why? It wasn't our place to tell you. It was Elliot's news to tell you when she felt ready."

"Yes, but obviously she was never going to tell me, so one of you should have."

"She _was_ going to tell you though," I answer. "She just… chickened out a lot. She thought you were going to kill her, which, to be fair, you probably would have. Her plan was she was going to call you, like, a week before the baby was due to tell you about it in the hope that she would only have to put up with you being mad for a week and then once the baby was born you wouldn't be mad anymore."

"_That_ was her _plan_?" Uncle Barry incredulously asks.

"Hey, I didn't say it was any good. I just said it was her plan!"

My granddad throws his hands up in the air. "I'm obviously not going to get a straight answer from either of you two. I don't know why I even bother." He storms towards the door."

"Granddad." He doesn't respond. "Granddad!"

My granddad exhales loudly before turning around to face me again. I'm looking away, however.

"I know you're pissed at us for not telling you, and I guess you have a right to be," I say, looking down at the ground. "Yell at us if you really need to yell at somebody, which I guess you're going to do anyway, and I think we can take it. But _please_ don't go yelling at Aunt Elliot or JD, because I think they've kind of got enough to deal with as it is without you making it worse. Don't you?"

He doesn't answer me. He just hesitates and sighs again, before walking away.

Once my granddad leaves the room: "Well, I think that went well."

"Sarcastic much?" I say. "So… what's been going on with you?"

"Wow, nice topic change."

"I could really do with talking about something completely unrelated to what has just happened these last few days."

Uncle Barry nods. "Fair enough. What's been going on with me? Well…. I haven't told my dad yet, but –"

"Oh please, dear god, do _not_ tell me that you're pregnant? Because I really can't do all this again."

"Lys Reid, I really want you to think about what you just said."

I replay that sentence in my head. "Yeah, I'm realising how stupid that was. Give me a break. I've barely had nine hours sleep in the last 96 hours. So what's your thing really?"

"Well, I started seeing somebody."

Over-dramatic jaw drop. "You did?! Tell me more!"

"His name's Harry. He teaches elementary school drama."

"They teach drama in elementary school?"

Uncle Barry shrugs. "It's a private all-girls' school. They teach the kids Ancient Greek in there, for goodness sake."

"Ancient Greek? What the hell good is that to anybody?"

"You're asking me," Uncle Barry sighs. "Oh, and he runs the glee club."

"They have a glee club, seriously?" I scoff. "Jealous."

The door to the conference room opens again. It's my dad. "I just passed Dad in the corridor. He did not look amused."

"I would not imagine so," Barry says.

"I was just going to get some coffee," my dad says. "Either of you want anything?"

"Vanilla Latte," Uncle Barry answers.

"Alyssa?"

"You know what, I'll come with you." I get up and follow my dad out the room, saying goodbye to my uncle Barry at the same time.

"So, did you get out of the hospital to sleep last night?" My dad asks, as we walk along the corridor towards the elevator.

"Yeah. I stayed at Michael's."

My dad gives me a weird look.

Roll eyes. "I was upstairs in his room. He slept on the couch." Wow… there's the reason I don't tell my dad everything. "Apparently he found me sitting on a bench outside crying because I couldn't drive myself home or find my house keys so he gave me a lift to his house."

My dad looks at me. "He really looks after you, doesn't he?"

"Yeah," I answer. "Dad… you know what, it doesn't matter."

The elevator doors slide open in front of us, and we step in.

"No. What were you going to say?"

"The other day, I was sitting with Michael. I looked up and you were walking away. Why did you walk away?" I ask.

My dad sighs heavily. "I just realised that you don't need me anymore."

"Dad-"

"Not that you ever needed me to begin with, but you really don't need me."

"Dad, that's not-"

"No, it's good. That's what I wanted. That's why I sent you to live with your Aunt Elliot. I know I didn't go the right way about it, but I thought if you hated me that much for sending you away, when you found out the truth you wouldn't care. I know how stupid that seems now. But look at you. Moving out here was the best thing that could've happened to you. You've got your friends here, there's a young man who obviously cares a great deal about you and who I know you care a great deal about. You've got this whole other… whole other family you fit into here with your aunt and all the people here that I'm not a part of. And I'm happy I'm not a part of that. You've grown up a hell of a lot in the last year, Alyssa. You can stand on your own two feet. You're strong. You're loyal. You've grown into an amazing young woman, Alyssa. I'm incredibly proud of you."

I don't realise I'm crying until I try to speak. "Thank you, Dad."

My Dad hugs me. "I know I'm not going to be around to see it," he says, his voice cracking slightly with emotion, "but I hope you get everything you're looking for in life. You deserve it."

And there isn't much I can really say after that.

* * *

_JD_

Even though Dan is here, I haven't had a chance to talk to him yet. So, I told him I would meet him down at the NICU, which is where I find him now.

"Hey. Sorry I'm late. Elliot was getting checked on. If all goes well she should be out of here in a couple of days."

"That's great," Dan says. "You must be pleased."

"It's something, at least," I sigh.

"So how are you holding up?"

"Honestly?" I pause, thinking about what to say. "Honestly, I'm saying all the right things to Elliot. Telling her everything's going to be okay, that Riley will be okay. But I'm having the hardest time trying to convince myself. I mean, look at her. Look at the size of her. Any number of things could go wrong from here. This is just the beginning. It's only going to get more difficult from here on. It going to be endless medical tests, waiting for results, praying there isn't some sort of setback. If Riley even gets a cold it could… it could kill her."

Dan sighs. "And you think thinking like that's going to make it any easier?"

"I've seen it before. When I was in med school I did a placement in NICU. There was this kid, eight weeks premature. He'd been strong up until the day before he was going to get home. But he got an infection and… he died. He'd been so strong for weeks and then overnight a simple infection got the better of him. What if that happens to Riley?"

"I can't imagine what it's like to be in your shoes right now," Dan quietly says, "but you're going to drive yourself insane thinking like that. Especially if you don't talk to anybody."

"I can't exactly talk to Elliot. It's not as if she doesn't have enough to worry about either."

"Not talking to Elliot isn't going to be a good idea either. If you two are going to get through this with any degree of sanity intact, you're gonna have to talk to each other. But if you ever want to talk to someone who isn't Elliot, feel free to call me at any time. I know I haven't been the best brother before, but things are going to be really rough for you and I want to help."

"Thanks, Dan. I really appreciate it."

"And plus, I've already decided I'm going to be Cool Uncle Dan who smuggles candy in for Riley when Mom and Dad aren't looking."

"That's fine. As long as you want to put up with a sugar hyper child."

Dan shrugs. "Sure. How hard can it be? Mom called, by the way."

"Really?"

"Yeah, she was wondering how, and I quote, her granddaughter is. And she asked me to tell you that once things are a bit better with Riley, she'll fly out to meet her. And Elliot, for that matter."

"She actually said she'd fly out? That's… so unlike her."

"She said she'd fly out now, but she doesn't want to intrude when you've got enough to deal with."

"Wow," I sigh. My mom never says she's going to fly out here. "You know I thought I was going to have more time to prepare for this. I thought I'd know what I was doing once she was born. But now that she's here… it scares the living daylights out of me even more than it already did. I'm going to be responsible for that little person in there for the rest of my life. I really wish Dad was around. I wish I could talk to him. How do I know I can handle this?"

"You can handle it. You handle everything. You've been doing pretty well so far."

"I don't know."

"Yeah you have. I'm sure you freaked out a hell of a lot when Elliot first got pregnant so early into your relationship? But did you bolt? No, you didn't. And, hey, aren't you the one who's been helping take care of your girlfriend's teenage niece for months? And have you run away at any point these last few days? Gone to a bar and drank yourself stupid like I would have done?"

"Well, I sort of ran away on Monday... but... it wasn't so much doing a runner as I needed some air to breathe."

"See, you're handling things just fine." After a few minutes of a pause, Dan speaks again.  
"Well, I better get a hotel room booked, before Elliot's family get in there first."

"Wait, aren't you just going to stay with us?" I ask.

"No, you guys need your space. And no doubt, there won't be enough rooms in hotels and someone will end up staying with you anyway. But hey, I'm won't be that far away. If you guys need anything, any help at all, no matter what time, just call me."

"Thanks, Dan. So how long are you staying in town for?"

"I said I'd be back at work by the middle of next week. But I can stay out here longer if you guys need me to."

"Elliot's family will are here too. If you need to go back earlier, just go. It's not a problem."

"We'll see what happens. Okay, I am actually going to get that hotel booked. Say hi to RiRi for me."

And there's Riley Dorian's first nickname. "Will do."

Dan begins to walk away but then I interrupt him. "Hey Dan, I did tell you that I'm going to propose to Elliot, right? I got a ring and everything. I was going to do it on Monday... but, well, you know."

Dan just looks at me and blinks. "See, I told you you're doing to be fine." Off he goes.

I stand looking through the NICU window for another few minutes, watching Riley sleep. She looks so peaceful. Poor little thing. It's not going to be easy for you, is it?

I begin the walk back to Elliot's room. She may well be sleeping too by the time I get there. She was pretty tired when I left. I don't think she's sleeping much at night. I know I haven't, and honestly, I'm exhausted.

When I get to Elliot's room, I notice that she has a visitor: Her father. And since nobody seems to be yelling, I don't want to disturb.

Elliot's dad is sitting on the chair in the room. They just seem to be talking. I can't hear what's being said through the glass. But Elliot's crying now, and her dad walks over to hug her.

At this point I can just about lip-read what Elliot says. "I'm really scared."

You and me both, Elliot.

* * *

_**JD**  
_  
Six days have passed.

Riley's hanging in there. There haven't been any real scares or panics and her condition is improving. She's a tough cookie.

Elliot was moved out of the ICU down to regular maternity. Not that she's really spent a great deal of time in her hospital room. She's always been in the NICU with Riley. In fact, she's being released from hospital today. In just a few hours actually. But she doesn't seem excited, relieved or even remotely happy.

"You happy to be going home?"

Elliot, sitting on the bed, doesn't register that she's been spoken to.

"Elliot? Earth to Elliot Reid."

A few seconds later, Elliot snaps back to attention. "What?"

"I said 'You happy to be going home?'"

"No," Elliot sighs. "I just… I can't get my head around going home and leaving Riley here."

I frown. "Neither can I."

"It's not right. We should be taking her home with us." Elliot pauses and breathes deeply, like she's trying to stop herself from crying. "Have you… Have you seen Alyssa? She has my cell phone. "

"No, I haven't." I hope she hasn't done a disappearing act again. I can't think why she would though, unless Dan has irritated her so far again that she's snapped. Although I haven't seen Dan do that either. "I'll go look for her." I walk out of Elliot's room.

Ah, there's Nurse Roberts. Always a great source of information.

"Laverne," I say when I get to the nurses' station, "have you seen my brother? Or any of Elliot's family? Or Turk? They've all disappeared."

"Q-tip, they're all at the park across the street playing baseball. Didn't they tell you?"

* * *

_JD  
_  
Sure enough, I find Turk, Dan, Alyssa and the rest of Elliot's family across the street and sure enough they're in the middle of a makeshift baseball game. It seems that Dan, Turk, and Elliot's brother Billy are on one team, with Alyssa, Barry and Elliot's other brother Bradley on the batting team. Like I said, makeshift baseball game. Alyssa's dad Brian and her granddad are sitting a few feet away on the grass.

I can't blame them for getting out of the hospital for a while. It's the first nice sunny day in almost a week. Makes a change.

Looks like Dan is bowling and Alyssa is about to bat.

Alyssa turns to her uncles and says, "You guys know that I suck at this, right?"

Barry and Bradley shrug, and it's Dan who verbally responds.

"Yeah, that's why you're on fully Reid team."

That brings a response of sarcastic laughter and an 'Oh no he didn't" from Elliot's brothers.

Looking down the park past her dad and granddad, Alyssa asks the question: "Hey, is that Grandma talking to the Janitor again?"

The two men look around and while their attentions are averted, Alyssa, well, she flips Dan off.

Dan shakes his head. "That's not very ladylike now, is it?"

"Do I look like I care?"

"Are we playing baseball or what?" Somebody shouts.

The guys prepare for play. Everybody is in the stances that they need to be.

"You ready, Reid?" Dan tauntingly asks Alyssa.

"Just throw the damn ball, Dorian."

Damn bowls and – holy crap! For someone who claims she sucks at baseball, Alyssa had just hit a cracker of a shot. Call it beginner's luck or whatever, but everyone – including Alyssa – is looking around with facial expressions as if to say 'Did that just happen?'

"Alyssa!" I shout. "Run!"

With a jump in the air, Alyssa snaps back to attention and starts running as fast as her legs will take her. When she's nearly three quarters of the way around the diamond Turk throws the ball to Dan and it's a race to the death.

I can't call this one. It could go either way.

Alyssa keeps glancing over her shoulder to see where Dan is. When she notices that Dan is getting closer to her, she starts running even faster. If she was running any faster, she'd be taking off in a minute!

You'd think I'd be cheering Dan on. Family loyalty and all that? "Run, Alyssa!"

It's going to be close. And would you look at that, Alyssa gets to home base just before Dan tags her out.

Let the happy dance commence.

"What were you saying about us Reids?" Alyssa. "Because you just got your backside whooped! What what's that score again? Oh right: Reid: Uno. Dorian: Nada!"

Now it's Dan's turn to do the sarcastic laugh.

Alyssa's still doing her victory dance when the next person stands to bat.

* * *

_JD_

Elliot has been officially discharged from hospital now. She's in the NICU, saying goodbye to Riley. I'm standing outside with everyone else, minus Elliot's brother Barry who is making a phone call, looking in the window.

"Would you look at that," Elliot's mom says. "My first granddaughter."

As if we'd synchronised it, everyone turns their head simultaneously to look at Alyssa.

A sarcastic eyebrow raised. "Um, _hi_ _Grandma_."

"Hello, Alyssa," Lily Reid responds, completely obliviously.

"Okay, I'm going to pretend that never happened." Alyssa mumbles to herself.

Barry returns from making his phone call. "We have a problem. We can only keep one of the rooms at the Travelodge for another few days. They're fully booked. My suggestion: two of us stay at Brian's apartment and Mom and Dad stay at the Travelodge. Which means somebody'll need to stay at that creepy motel across the road. I called. They have vacancies," he says with a grimace.

"How do we decide who stays there?" Billy asks.

Bradley's suggestion: "Rock, Paper, Scissors?"

"We'll be here all night."

"Short straw?"

"Do you have any straws?"

"Can I make this a lot simpler?" Alyssa chips in. "Why doesn't whoever is going to stay at the motel just take my room at home?"

"Where are you going to sleep?"

"I'll stay at Kate's," she answers. "Or Michael's. His mom said it would be okay for to stay there again. I just need to pick up some clothes from home. And it saves someone staying in the motel that looks like it's been plucked straight from a bad horror movie."

"Thank you Alyssa, that's a very generous," Simon responds. "But, if you were to stay at Michael's house, where would you be sleeping?"

"In his room," Alyssa tentatively answers.

"And where would he be?"

"On the couch in his living room."

"That's fine then. Lily, we're staying at the Travelodge again tonight."

Elliot's mom doesn't respond.

"Lily?" Simon repeats.

Still no answer.

"Lily."

Silence.

All together now: "Lily!"

The simultaneous shouting seems to snap her back to attention.

"What was that for?!"

"Lily, are you on another planet or something?"

"What?"

"It took three attempts to get you attention."

"So what? I'm distracted looking at my first grandchild."

"Okay, seriously, Grandma! Think about what I'm calling you!" Alyssa vents. "Okay, I'm going to call Meredith and double check it's okay for me to stay there."

"Alyssa, we're all meeting for something to eat at seven, if you want to come." Elliot's dad says.

"Sure."

"And hey," he continues, "bring Michael along. We'd like to meet him."

"That's code for you're going to give him the third degree, isn't it?"

Chorus of Reids: "Yes."

Alyssa rolls her eyes. "Okay. Let me know where we're meeting," she says before walking away.

"I think we'd best be heading off too," Elliot's dad says. "Tell Elliot we'll call tomorrow."

"I will."

And with that, they're all gone. I walk into the NICU.

"... And they all lived happily ever after," Elliot says, reading from a little book. "That would be nice, wouldn't it Riley?" She looks around and sees me. "Hey. Did my parents go away?"

"Yeah, they're going to call tomorrow. How's she doing?"

Elliot smiles. "She's really good. We just read a story, didn't we Ri? I can't believe we have to leave her here."

"I know. No misbehaving now, Riley Dorian. They'll tell us if you're up to no good, you know."

"Look at that face. Does this look like a face that would misbehave?"

"It's the cute ones that always misbehave the most," a voice says from behind us. It's the NICU doctor – Dr Morrison. "Trust me, I've seen them all." The doctor pulls over a chair to talk to us. "How are you two doing?"

"We're just about holding up," Elliot answers.

"Good. Now, I'm really pleased with the progress Riley has been making. She, as I'm sure you're aware, is by no means out of the woods. Riley has a long way to go yet before she's healthy and there's no way telling what, if any, long-term difficulties she might face. But for the moment, everything is better than we would have expected. Yeah. Her lungs are strong enough that we want to try weaning her off the respirator. It'll start off with little short periods of time, before gradually moving to her not needing the ventilator at all."

"When will you start taking her off the ventilator?" I ask.

"Right now. How about seeing your daughter breathe on her own for the first time?"

It's difficult to describe the feeling I get, waiting to see if Riley will in fact breathe on her own. It just makes the reality crashing into me again like a freight train. It's still an uphill struggle from here.

I'm holding my own breath as I watch for the rise and fall of Riley's little chest. And when it happens, it's amazing.

"Attagirl." Dr Morrison says. "Now how about you let your parents hold you for the first time, huh Riley?"

Oh my god.

"Who's getting first hold of the little one then?"

Elliot looks up at me.

"You hold her first. You're her mom."

I've seen Elliot smile before, but never quite like just now. The way she picks Riley up, it's like she's never done anything different, lick picking the baby up is all she's ever done. She's so gentle with her, but so protective, like Elliot won't let anything happen to Riley.

"Hi, Riley. Hi, baby," Elliot coos.

Riley looks so much smaller when Elliot's holding her.

Elliot's actually holding Riley.

Riley's breathing on her own.

It's all a little overwhelming. I take a few steps back and turn away, trying to control my emotion.

"JD," Elliot quietly says. "You okay?"

I turn back around. "Yeah, I'm okay."

"You're crying."

"I just realised I'd convinced myself I was never going to see this happen."

* * *

_JD_

That night once we're home, Elliot goes straight to bed. She's still in a lot of pain from surgery. While Elliot did that, I returned some calls from people – family that have called see how Elliot and Riley are. That takes about an hour.

I tiptoe quietly into the room, fully expecting Elliot to be asleep. But then I hear a sniffle.

"Elliot? You awake?"

"I can't sleep."

I get into bed and lie down beside Elliot. "Are you crying?"

"Yeah," Elliot answers. "I should be there with her, JD. She should be here with us. She shouldn't be there all alone."

"I know. I know."

"She must be so scared." I can feel that Elliot's crying is getting stronger. "If anything happens to Riley, and we're not there..?"

I really want to be able to tell Elliot that everything is going to be okay, that our daughter will come out of this perfectly healthy, and it's killing me that I can't tell her. "Hey, remember how well she was doing before we left? She was breathing on her own for a little while; we got to hold her. Think about that. She's strong, Elliot. She is. Try to relax, okay? Try to get some sleep. I know it's difficult. I know. But we'll be back with Riley first thing in the morning. Try to get some sleep, okay?"

Elliot nods, but I can hear her still crying. I wrap an arm around her, and she cuddles into me, but she's careful not to cause herself any more pain.

I hold Elliot until she falls asleep. But even when she does, I'm afraid to let her go.

---


	32. My Graduation

**My Graduation**

_Alyssa_

It's been a hell of a six weeks, I'll say.

You know that way where you feel as if you actually haven't stopped in ages and can't remember the last time you just sat and chilled and everything else seems to be rushing by you and before you know it, another six weeks have gone by? It feels like that. Even when you've been sleeping for nine hours straight (which, honestly, has been a rarity as of late) you still wake up completely shattered.

The rest of my family and Dan had all gone back home by a week after Aunt Elliot got out of hospital. But at least one of them has phoned every day to see how Riley is.

Riley was moved out of the NICU into a special care baby unit about two weeks ago, and she doesn't need the ventilator any more. It was amazing to see the relief that that brought to JD and Elliot. Obviously, they're by no means complacent and they're still stressed and worried and scared, but they feel like that they've crossed one big hurdle, you know?

Two weeks ago was the first time that I – along with Turk and Carla - actually got to meet Riley. The visiting rules for the NICU were parents, grandparents and siblings only. JD and Elliot tried, but they were a stickler for the rules down there. My grandparents did get to meet her though.

And you remember how my aunt was freaking out for months (literally) about telling my granddad she was pregnant because he'd, somehow or other, kill her? Nothing. Not even a single word to her about not being married, a child should have a family – you know, the obligatory 'Catholic' family speech. He hasn't even said anything to her about not telling him. However, had everything happened in different circumstances, I think his reaction would have been different too. Granddad can't really say anything to her after what happened, can he? For my uncle Barry and me, it's a different story. I think he's going to be holding that over our heads for all eternity. Well, Uncle Barry's anyway. If he tries that trick with me, I could play the 'Dad' card, if I really wanted to and he knows that.

JD went back to work. He's working a few hours a few days a week now, so that when Riley does get out of hospital, he can take the time off then. Makes sense. Aunt Elliot's still pretty laid up, though. She's pretty sore from her C-section. She isn't comfortable even driving herself anywhere yet, so she normally gets a lift from somebody to the hospital to spend all day with Riley. Usually I give my aunt a lift to the hospital but this morning JD took her on his way to work.

Oh, and we moved house three days ago too. That was a laugh and a half. It was a mad rush to get everything sorted. With everything that had happened with my aunt and Riley, any real thought or awareness of moving house was like, long gone, until ten days ago when Aunt Elliot changed the page of the calendar in the old apartment kitchen and then all hell broke loose. There was panic calling Turk and Carla, and then calling every removals company in town. It was... how shall I put this... entertaining. To be honest, it was almost slapstick.

Packing up everything was ridiculous. Basically there was no real order to anything. It was a case of throw everything into a box and deal with it later. Seemed like a good idea at the time, but not so much now when I've been trying to find something important and can't. That hasn't been fun.

I officially graduate high school in three days. It's scary as hell. 13 years. I've been in school 13 years and it's all going to come to an end with a big ceremony with caps and gowns and diplomas being handed out. And then we're out on our own in the big bad world. The big bad, ridiculously scary world. But, honestly, graduating high school is the least of my worries.

My dad moved into a hospice last week. A hospice. A hospice for cancer patients. Terminal cancer patients. A hospice as in a place to freaking die. See why graduating high school is barely a blip on my radar?

He didn't tell me until the day before that he was moving into the hospice. I went round to visit, as I've done every day in recent weeks and then he told me that he was moving into Summertrees Hospice. The next day. He said he'd been meaning to tell me earlier, but with everything else that was going on, he didn't want to stress me out even more than I already was. Yes Dad, because leaving it until the day before to tell me that you're going into a hospice isn't going to stress me out. I get the reasoning though. I do, honestly. And, you know what, I'm not spending what little time there is left being pissed about it. It's not worth it.

I guess it's hitting me that he's really dying. And soon. I mean, I always knew it was coming. We've been making progress with all this making up for lost time stuff. I just didn't think that eventually then end of time would be being measure in terms of week, not months. I could see he was getting sicker. He was losing weight, he was looking tired, dark circles under his eyes. But... well, denial's a powerful thing.

Graduation. I haven't got around to being really excited about it. I will tomorrow though once I'm in my dress and my cap and my gown and back at school for the last time and I'm making my speech. I'm valedictorian, did I mention that? I'm valedictorian. And I have to make a speech tomorrow and I still don't know what to say. I have some ideas written down, I just need to formulate them into a proper speech. Or I could just wing it? Yeah, winging it sound good.

No it doesn't.

"Hey, does anybody have any paper?" I ask to the people sitting in the Sacred Heart Hospital cafeteria. As usual, I'm doing a volunteering shift.

"Why do you need paper?" Turk asks, as he walks by me carrying a tray of food. He takes a seat opposite me.

"Well, considering I have to give a speech in three days, I thought now might be time to actually prepare something. Any good at writing speeches?"

"Nope, sorry. This for your graduation?"

I nod.

"Ah, graduations," I hear Dr Kelso's voice from behind me. He's sitting at the table behind me. "You know, it's one of the proudest moments for a young person. And for their families. I went to my son Harrison's graduation from teacher training a while ago. I was so proud to see him walk across that stage, to see him find his calling in life after everything else he's tried. Graduations are a sign of people growing up, getting older, moving on with their lives. And of course, the person who gets to make the speech, well, you're going to stick in the minds of everybody who was there. You're got the responsibility of saying something that both moving and optimistic. Something powerful and meaningful."

"Crap," is my only response.

"I wouldn't say that in your speech, dear," Dr Kelso comments, before averting his attention back to his lunch.

"Why the hell did I leave this to the last minute?," I whine, putting my hands on my head for no real reason other than frustration. "I mean, I started writing things. I've got a few ideas, but every time I went to write something properly, something else came up. And now it's this week and no doubt something else will happen to distract me from it because it always does and –"

"Okay, Alyssa, I'm going to stop you right there because you're beginning to speak at an alarming Elliot-esque rate," Turk interjects. His eyes are wide, and his hand is held out like he's stopping traffic. "And that never ends well. For anyone."

"I promise I'll stop," I say, before reverting to a deliberately whiny tone. "But I don't know what to write."

Turk shrugs. "Just write what's in your head."

"Well, that would be good advice," I respond. "Except for one problem."

"What's that?"

"There is nothing in my head. Nothing. Well, apart from the faint buzzing sound I get when I'm stressed. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz."

Turk raises and eyebrow and throws an incredulous glance my way. "You are a weird kid."

"You've met the people I'm related to," I say. "Are you _really _surprised?"

Turk shakes his head.

I glance at my watch. "Damn. I have to get back to work. Any words of advice before I go?"

"Yes," Turk answers proudly. "Don't eat yellow snow."

Grave, not amused look."Ha. Ha ha. Hahahahaha."

"Seriously though, don't write something because you think everyone else wants to hear it. Write what's important to you and what _you_ want to say and you'll be fine. Trust me."

"Thanks, Turk, really," I say. After that, I begin to make my way out of the cafeteria, but I turn around with a question I have to ask. "Hey, if you're free, would mind if I emailed you a draft of my speech for you to read?"

Turk nods. "Sure. I'll look over it for you."

"Thank you." And back to volunteering I go.

* * *

_JD_

Since I went back to work, this is the moment I look forward to every break for: walking into the nursery to see Riley and Elliot.

Elliot's sitting in the rocking chair, Riley in one of her arms and a bottle to feed her in the other. "And then were going to take you to Disneyland. Yes, we are. You want to go to Disneyland, Riley? Yeah? Okay, but we need to wait until you're a bit older. You know, once you're old enough to appreciate it. Although I'm not sure who'll be more excited about it out of you and your dad. To be honest, Riley, I think it might be him."

"Hey!"

Elliot looks up from Riley to me. "Oh, come on. You don't think you'd be bouncing off the ceiling as much as she would be? You don't think you and Turk would be acting like the biggest kids in the world?"

I try my best to feign seriousness. "No."

"Ri, do you believe him?"

On cue, Riley emits the tiniest noise.

"Nope, me neither."

"Is this what I've got to look forward to? You two ganging up on me?"

"Yes."

"Thanks for the warning."

"Do you want to go to Daddy while I clean your bottle out?" Elliot asks the baby, before handing Riley to me, standing up and making her way to the sink.

"Hi, baby girl," I say to Riley. "How are you today? Are you good? I think you are, because you just gulped down that whole bottle Mommy fed you. You were hungry, weren't you? It won't be long until you get out of here, will it? Because you've gotten a lot bigger since you were born, haven't you? You're still tiny, though. But you're getting bigger and stronger every day. You keep doing that for me and when you go home I'll... let you have all the ice cream that you want. Okay, Mommy's glaring at me, so maybe not."

"Not that I won't let you have ice cream, Riley, but once at camp when I was a kid I ate so much ice cream I threw up for three days," Elliot says from the sink.

"Three days?"

Elliot nods. "Three days straight. See why bribery with ice cream is a bad idea?"

"Okay, Riley, so ice cream's out. How about chocolate? Although, that would probably have the same effect. Um... well, how about you tell us what you want when you're a bit older? As long as it's not ice cream or chocolate. Because then we're really back to square one. Oh well, we'll figure something out, won't we? I'll take that little sigh as a yes then, shall I?"

Elliot makes her way back over to where we are and sits on the chair next to the one I'm sitting on.

"We still need to think about decorating Riley's room," I say to Elliot.

"I was thinking yellow," Elliot answers. "Yellow's nice. It's neutral, it's peaceful and it's easy to paint and get furniture to go with."

"Yellow could be good. What do you think blue with clouds floating over it?"

"It's a good idea," Elliot responds. "But for the record, my artistic ability is worse than my singing ability so I vote that we do not have me painting any clouds. Ever. Actually, I say we make a deal now. Whenever Riley comes home from school or kindergarten with some kind of art project, you help her with that, and I'll take care of the really difficult stuff when she's older. That okay with you?"

"You have got yourself a deal, Dr Reid," I say. "But when she brings home a boyfriend, I still get to kill him, right?"

Elliot looks upward for a second, as if she's thinking. "Yes, you still get to do that."

"Okay, good." I look down at Riley. "Because if you ever bring a boy home before you're thirty, I'm gonna have to kill him."

"Thirty's a bit extreme."

"It's what's gonna happen."

Elliot responds to this with a chuckle. "Poor hypothetical guy Riley hypothetically brings home..."

In a slight moment of silence, my attention momentarily turns to the radio that is playing quietly in the corner of the room. And heaven help me if I ever don't recognise the song that's beginning to play.

Even Elliot recognises it, rolling her eyes at my expression of delight. "You're gonna sing it, aren't you?"

"Of course," I answer proudly. "Riley, this is Dad's favourite song. It's called _Don't Stop Believin' _and it's by a band called Journey, who, by the way, are the most awesome band music has ever created. And you're going to be hearing this song _a lot_ when you get home, so I might as well start teaching you it now. It goes like this: _Just a small town girl, living in a lonely world. She took the midnight train going anywhere."_

And so I continue singing the song to my daughter until the final chorus. "_Don't stop believing, hold onto that feeling. Streetlight people." _Once the songs plays out, I say to Riley, "And that was Don't Stop Believin."

I glance up at Elliot and realise that at some point without my noticing she's managed to get find the video camera and she has it aiming in our direction.

"Did you just record that?" I ask her, although really, I already know the answer.

"Yep." Elliot smiles at me from the other side of the camera.

* * *

_Alyssa_

Graduation is two days away now. I managed to get a good chunk of my speech written last night and I'm feeling slightly more confident than I did yesterday. It's really hitting home how things are quickly things are changing. Too freaking quickly, if you ask me. I'm not saying change is a bad thing. But slow it down a bit for God sake. Although, it taught me that life is freaking short and there's no point pissing about, deciding whether or not to do something you were always going to do from the outset.

Take just now for instance. I'm sitting in my living room with Michael. We're supposed to have been watching some movie. Well, we didn't watch the first part of the film because we decided that a make-out session was much more fun. And since that ended, I've been concentrating on thinking instead. To hell with thinking. Didn't I just say there's no point wasting time thinking about something you were always going to do?

"Do you think we should break up before college?" I ask. Just out of the blue. No warning beforehand. Like ripping off the band-aid. Or the waxing strip. Whatever.

Michael blinks at me, obviously not entirely sure if he heard me correctly. "That was sudden."

"Yeah, I know," I respond, grimacing. "I've developed something of a Carpe Diem, rip off the band-aid mentality in recent weeks."

"I hadn't noticed," he responds with joking sarcasm.

"Maybe it doesn't work with everything," I muse. "In hindsight I probably should've given you a warning before blurting that out."

Silence kicks in. It's hardly surprising. I just dropped a question bombshell, not exactly sure what to say next and part of me wishes I could go back in time thirty seconds and un-ask that question.

"Do you... want to break up?" Michael eventually asks, destroying the lull.

I sigh heavily. To be honest, I think I preferred the silence to this conversation. You know, even though I'm the one who started it. "No. No, I don't _want_ to break up. I'm asking if we should," I answer. "Do _you _want to break up?"

"No, I don't. But I get why you're asking.I probably would've asked it soon to. Because college is going to be difficult and stressful enough without a long distance relationship to contend with too."

I nod in agreement. Agreement, with a little bit of dread mixed in there too. "You'll be here in California, I'll be in Massachusetts," I say, frowning. "We'd hardly ever see each other." There's another respite in the conversation." Although, there is this new fangled fancy thing I've heard of called technology. Cell phones, internet, web cam, that sort of thing. You heard of it too?"

"I have and it's a beautiful thing." Michael sighs. "But is it enough to keep a relationship going?"

"I really don't know. But I know I'm not ready for this to be over, but at the same time I don't want to make things ridiculously difficult for us either."

"Same here."

After a few moments of silence, I eventually say, "We're not going to figure this out right now are we?"

"Nope," Michael answers. "You want to take some time away from each other think about it for a while then decide?"

"Yeah. I think that'd be best." I sigh heavily again.

This is going to suck.

* * *

_Alyssa_

I've just been doing yet another thing that I shouldn't have left to the last minute: shopping for my graduation dress. I must be the most disorganised person on the face of the planet when it comes to their own graduation. Good news though, I got a dress. Yay. It's plain purple but I love it. The funny thing is, I didn't even see it. If Carla hadn't pointed it out to me, I would've bought the ugly green one that I didn't really like, but it was the least ugly of all the others.

You're probably wondering why Carla came shopping with me. Aunt Elliot had a meeting with Riley's doctor, so Carla offered to go dress shopping with me instead. And now Carla's driving back from shopping.

All this graduation preparation has really got me thinking about the last year. Carla was the second person I met out here (the first being JD) and within two weeks we had a wager going on when JD and Elliot would get together. She had her money on 7 weeks. I had mine on 13. She won. It was eight weeks from the beginning of the wager. Turk's guess was three weeks and Dr Cox's was 'I re-he-he-he-he-he-he-_he -_ally do not care'. Thinking about it, Carla has been there at pretty much all the major events that have happened over this year. She even let me stay with her and Turk when everything was such a mess.

"Carla, did I thank you for letting me stay with you in the week after Riley was born?"

"Yeah, you did," she answers, not taking her eyes away from the road she's driving along. "Sixteen times. And I told you each of those time, you didn't need to thank you, because quite frankly, when I said you could stay with us, I wasn't going to take no for an answer. Alyssa, you were too busy trying to make sure everyone else was okay and neglecting yourself."

"I _was_ living on a diet of cookies and coffee..."

"Yeah," Carla murmurs. "How you didn't make yourself really ill, I will never know. To be honest, you reminded me a lot of myself. Someone needed to look after you and check that you were okay. Everything had affected you a lot more than you were letting on."

It's true. I'm a master of denial. I had buried myself in dealing with my grandparents and uncles. The first night I stayed at Carla and Turk's, Carla sat me down with a cup of tea (coffee was becoming really old) and within a couple of minutes I'd lost it completely. I was sitting there on Carla and Turk's couch, bawling my eyes out to the point I could barely see or breathe. Nothing had really set me off; it was just the build up of everything. So Carla hugged me and told me that it was all going to be alright and it was okay to cry.

"I wasn't going to leave one of the family out there to drown."

Carla's choice of words sticks in my head. "Thank you, Carla."

"You don't need to thank me."

"Hey, Momma Bear?" I ask a few minutes later. "You remember that day, in the maternity ward before I left to kick JD's ass and there was a lot of yelling?"

Carla frowns. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"Me too."

* * *

_Alyssa_

I hate this place. Well, it's a hospice so I'm guessing I'm not alone on that one.

In its defence, it's not a horrible place. Everybody's really nice and lovely and helpful, and it's not a dire hellhole. Everything's nice and bright and airy. There are flowers and pictures and cards around everywhere. It's just the idea of this place. People come to _die_ here.

I sign into the visitors' book and say hello to the lady – Cassidy – at the front desk as usual.

"Hi, Alyssa," she replies, and she asks me how I am.

That's the thing. I – and other relatives – am here so often that the staff know you on a first name basis, and you know them similarly. It's nice in a way because you know that they care, but by the same token, the reason we're here so often is simply because there's not much time left.

"Your Dad is through in the conservatory," Cassidy tells me.

I thank her, and walk through to the conservatory where my dad is, as usual.

The conservatory is a sunny room, looking out over the hospice's fancy landscaped garden. The garden is full of many different species of colourful plants. I think it's designed to bring some comfort to the residents. At least, I think it does for my dad, because every time I visit he's sitting in the conservatory, gazing out there.

"Hey, Dad," I say as I walk into the conservatory.

Dad stands up from his seat – although not as easily as before – and hugs me.

The usual points are exchanged. _How are you? What have you been doing?_ Really insignificant things like that. We even discuss the other night's _American Idol_, of all things. A year ago, there's no way in hell we'd be sitting like this talking about the television. We barely said two words to each other. He'd either be working all the time. I'd stay in my room studying. Or Dad would be arguing with my mom and I'd just go to a friend's house, or even just walk around town. The more I think about it, it was horrendous then. Things are much better now. I just wish it hadn't taken this to make that happen. And it's all going to be over in a few weeks, isn't it? That's the timescale of things now. Weeks.

Before I really know it, an hour has passed.

"So, um, my high school graduation is tomorrow," I say nervously. "And I'm valedictorian."

"That's amazing," Dad replies. "Do you have everything prepared?"

"Yeah. I got a dress this morning and I completed my speech this afternoon," I say, taking the printed copy out of my bag. "Would you like to read it?"

"Yes please."

He takes the speech from me. I sit there nervously during the few minutes it takes him to read it.

"It's great," he eventually says. "Fantastic."

I smile. "You think so?"

"Yeah."

Okay, there's something I need to say now. And I'm as well just getting on with it. Ripping the band-aid off.

" The... um... the ceremony is tomorrow at two, and I'd really like it if you were there," I say. "I mean, if you don't feel up to it, I'll understand. But... well, it feels like it took us so long to get the point where we actually get along, Dad, and you're not going to be there when I graduate college or graduate from medical school or when I get married or have a kid... and I'd really like you to be there for this one thing. But I'll completely understand if you can't make it."

My Dad frowns at me and I can just about predict the response he's about to give. "Alyssa, I promise I'll do my best to be there tomorrow. Believe me, nothing would make me happier than seeing you graduate high school tomorrow," he says, with a smile. The thing is I know it's somewhat fake, and it quickly turns to a frown that seems to carry so much more honesty. "But if I'm not... I'm really really proud of you."

"Thank you," I respond, frowning. I can tell by his expression that he isn't going to be there tomorrow. My heart sinks and I realise two things. One: how much I really wanted Dad just to say 'Sure. I'll be there tomorrow. I wouldn't miss it for the world.' And two: That I really do not want to be here anymore. "I... I have to go," I say, glancing at my watch, hoping that my dad will believe that the time is the reason I'm going. "I have to go home for dinner and I have a million things to do before graduation. So...um, I'm going to go home. I'll see you tomorrow. Maybe. Well, definitely. Because if you're not there tomorrow... I'll make sure Aunt Elliot takes pictures and I'll bring them round for you to see."

"That would be great," my dad answers, and it seems to me to be more confirmation that he's not going to be there.

"Okay," I answer more glumly than intended. "I'll see you tomorrow."

I hug my dad goodbye and make a quick exit out of the hospice after that.

* * *

_JD_

God, I hate unpacking. It has to be done. It could've been a lot easier if we'd had the good sense to organise the boxes instead of throwing everything into any damn box. I've found living room thing in with kitchen things. But that's what happens when you leave packing until a few days before you move. Lesson learned.

Unpacking quietly is a lot more difficult than you'd think. Inevitably you end up dropping something that smashes on the floor, creating an extremely loud noise in an extremely quiet house. In my case it was a vase. Oops. I'll have to explain that to Elliot when she wakes up. She's sleeping upstairs just now. Actually, that's the reason I'm trying to keep it down.

It's just after seven when I hear the front door open. A few seconds later, Alyssa walks into the living room and slumps down on the couch, a forlorn look on her face.

"You okay?" I ask her.

When she looks up, I notice the tears in her eyes. "I don't think my dad's going to go to my graduation tomorrow. "

"That sucks," I respond, frowning. "I'm really sorry."

Alyssa leans forward and rests her head in her hands. "I mean, I shouldn't be upset about it. He's ill. I get it. I couldn't get it any more if you clubbed me over the head with it." she says frustrated. "I don't want to be upset, but I am."

"That's completely understandable. It's going to be such a big day for you and no matter what you want your Dad there. I get it.""

"It just feels like everything's going too quickly, you know? I feel like it was just yesterday I founf out about his illness and he's about to die. Feels like I just moved here and then I'm going to be moving away again in a couple of months. Like I just started at St Catherine's and already I'm graduating. " Alyssa continues to vent. "There's so much happening right that sometimes I don't know what the hell is happening," she adds, her voice much quieter than it was a few seconds ago.

I raise my eyebrows."You're telling me," I say sullenly.

Alyssa's silent for a few moments, shedding a few tears to herself before she composes herself. "I don't want to think about all this anymore so I'm changing the subject. How's Riley?"

"She's doing really well," I answer and I can't help myself from grinning, thinking about Riley. "Better than she should be, really. Dr Peterson is confident she'll be able to come home in a few weeks."

"That's awesome." Alyssa smiles, but quickly her frown returns. It tells me that her resolve not to think about it all hasn't lasted very long.

"You know, I'm feeling thirsty," I say, sensing that although she's thinking about it, Alyssa really doesn't want to talk. "How about I make some tea?"

"Yes please," Alyssa answers, looking relieved.

A few minutes later when I return with the aforementioned tea, I ask Alyssa, "Are you ready for graduating tomorrow?"

She takes a sip of her tea before answering. "You know, I thought I was but now... I really don't know," she explains. "I'm not sure I'm ready to leave the safety and security yet. It feels like everything's becoming suddenly more serious and heavy." Another sip of tea. "Can I ask you a question?" she says, unusually timidly.

"Sure. Ask me anything."

"Do you think I would be stupid to try and have a long distance relationship during college?"

"I wouldn't do it," I answer honestly. "But then again, I am a world-renowned and self-confessed commitaphobe who waited for far too many years to ask out his dream girl, so I'm probably not the best person to ask."

"Look, I'm not dense, I know that like... 95% of the time long distance doesn't work and is like the _worst_ idea anybody every created," Alyssa elaborates. "But, and I know this also sounds stupid, I don't want to look back in five or ten or twenty years and wonder what could've been, you know?"

"Yeah, I get it," I respond. "But I'm going to tell you a story."

Alyssa looks dubious. "Does this story involve unicorns?"

"No."

"Dr Acula?"

"Nope."

"Okay. Continue."

"A while ago, when I was a lot younger, I had a massive crush on one of my co-workers. She was pretty and funny and ridiculously competitive," I trail off, thinking back."Eventually we started dating, which I was happy about. It wasn't for long, though. It ended after a couple of weeks."

"Why?" Alyssa asking, intrigued by the story.

"Well, long story short, we started to get on each other's nerves pretty damn quickly. Then, the day we actually broke up, she was pissed because I didn't stick up for her in front of our boss. I was so focused on getting our boss' approval that I didn't want to go against our boss, even if it was to stick up for her," I explain. "We had an argument in one of the break rooms. She stormed out, and that was that. It took us a few weeks, but we got back to being good friends. For a while I wondered what would've happened if I'd done things differently, if I'd gone after her and apologised or if I'd defended her in the first place. "

"But I thought you said you'd been getting on each other's nerves?"

"Yeah, we did, but we still dated on and off for years after that."

"Then what happened?" Alyssa asks.

"Well, after our last break up, we spent a few years apart. We were still really good friends, and I think subconsciously I always still thought of her in that way. Anyway, we got back together eventually. Neither of us really expected it, we both thought that ship had sailed a long time ago. Things moved pretty quickly after that. I pretty much moved in with her and her niece without even realising it. A few weeks after we got back together we found out she was pregnant and now we have a beautiful baby daughter."

"Wait," Alyssa says. I can almost see the wheels turning in her head as she's figuring it out. "So that girl was -?"

"Yep," I answer.

"Riiiight."

"Look, I know that's a completely different situation from yours," I continue. "All I'm saying is if something's meant to be, it's gonna happen. Eventually, it'll all just fall into place. Look at Elliot and me. We crashed and burned so many times before we got to here, but believe it or not, I'm glad we did, because if it hadn't been for that, I don't think we'd be where we are now. And another thing," I say. "Back when I thought there was there was no hope for Elliot and me, I kept it in my head that at least we'd tried. At least, we'd tried and failed, and that's got to be a thousand times better than never knowing at all."

Alyssa nods.

I stand up, intent on returning to my task of unpacking boxes.

"Want some help?" Alyssa asks.

"Sure."

It's silent as we unpack the boxes.

"Thank you," Alyssa says suddenly, almost giving me a fright as she breaks the silence. "For, you know, everything."

Alyssa immediately goes back to unpacking, while I pause, unsure what to say.

"You're welcome," is the only thing I can think to say.

* * *

_JD_

The day of Alyssa's graduation is finally here. She's still asleep right now. She's graduating high school today, let her have a lie in.

Elliot and I are sitting down in the kitchen, eating breakfast. As you do in the morning. Just faintly, we can hear the sound of Alyssa's alarm clock, beeping furiously. Once it is switched off, Elliot and I glance at each other.

It's Elliot who speaks. "Three... two... one."

Right on cue, we hear Alyssa's bedroom door opening, quickly followed by the thud of footsteps running along the hall and down the stairs... which is also followed by the clatter of a person's whole body hitting the floor.

"That can't be good," I say to Elliot.

"I'm okay!" Alyssa calls out before continuing her run through the house. She opens the kitchen door with enough force to give a hurricane a run for its money.

"Morning," I say to her.

"Imgraduatinghighschooltoday."

"Say that more slowly."

"I'm graduating high school _today!"_

"Yes, you are," Elliot grins at her.

Alyssa goes onto do some weird form of happy dance with jumps before spinning round and running back through the house to her room.

A quick descent into fits of laughter happens after that.

"This is gonna be good fun," I say.

* * *

_JD_

So, the rest of the morning turned out to be just as crazy. Home became a madhouse of hair products and makeup and shoes. The makeup and shoes had nothing to do with me, I swear.

They couldn't have picked a better day for a graduation if they'd tried. The sun shines brightly, but there's just enough of a breeze to keep everyone cool, and there's a real jovial atmosphere that fills the outdoor auditorium.

Elliot is sat to my right. Turk and Carla are to my left.

"I had forgotten how much fun it was getting dressed up," Elliot says as she smoothes out her black dress with her hand. "But I cannot wait to get back into my slacks. So much more comfortable."

"You guys remember last year we helped that burn victim to his graduation, only to have him collapse in pain on stage?" I ask the other guys.

"That was a mistake," Carla says, scoffing at the memory.

"I saw the photos," Elliot adds. "His mom really did manage to Photoshop out his anguish. Which reminds me. Do you have the camera?" She asks me.

I hold up said camera. "Right here, babe. Do you guys remember your graduations?"

" I remember at my graduation, my mom cheered so loudly she almost gave the principal heart attack," Turk says, laughing slightly. "He was very old."

"My mom cried all the way through mine," Carla chips in.

Elliot: "I brought my mom's love letter instead of my speech and read that instead. It was humiliating. My college graduation embarrassing too," she frowns.

Turk asks the question we all want to know the answer too. "What happened?"

"I fell down the stairs and fractured my left arm."

Carla grimaces. "Ouch..."

"Please tell me nothing went wrong with your med school graduation?" Turk says.

"No, that was good."

"Thank god."

"My med school graduation was one of the only times my parents sat in the same place at the same time," I say, casting my mind back all those years. "It was last time they were together in the same place."

We're quiet after that, all of us reflecting on graduations past. It's funny how you can remember them so clearly after all those years, even if they're not quite as eventful as Elliot's.

The moment of contemplation is interrupted by the girl of the hour, Miss Alyssa Reid.

"Well, look at you in your cap and gown," Carla says.

"Big day, huh kid?" Turk adds in. "Nervous?"

"Yes. I'm terrified. Have you seen the amount of people here?" Alyssa answers and the nerves are really clear in her voice. "I didn't know you guys were coming today."

"Well, we couldn't let one of the family graduate from high school and not be there, could we?" Carla answers.

Alyssa smiles broadly. "Thank you."

"Have you seen who else is here?" I ask her, gesturing to the other side of the audience, where Alyssa's dad is sitting with one of the nurses from his hospice.

"Wow. He actually made it," Alyssa says smiling. "I should go and say hi."

"But before you go," Elliot says, standing up. "Good luck. I'm very proud of you. We all are. Come here." Elliot hugs her niece. "Good luck. You're going to be great."

"Thank you," Alyssa answers. "Okay, I better go."

"Good luck," Carla and I say.

"You knock 'em dead!" Turk adds.

Alyssa turns slightly and grins at us as she walks away.

"Hey, Elliot, do have tissues with you?" Turk asks.

"Yes. Need one?"

"No, but you might."

A few minutes later, the entire audience is standing and applauding as the students – all of them dressed in their gowns – walk out to take their seats for graduation. I recognise some of the faces walking out as Alyssa 's friends and some of the other Sacred Heart volunteers.

Once all the students are in their seats, the principal approached the lectern. He's an older man, tall, but stout. In a way, he reminds me of Dr Kelso.

"Good afternoon," he says in a deep booking voice that seems to fill the whole outdoor auditorium. "Thank you all for being here at St Catherine's High School in support of this graduating class. It's a great honour to be able to join you in what must be an exceptionally proud and emotional moment for you all – seeing your children graduate from high school.

I would like to begin proceedings by inviting our valedictorian to speak. This young lady transferred to St Catherine's just this year, and wasted no time in showing her true potential. Please welcome to the stage Alyssa Reid."

The audience give a round of applause as Alyssa walks on to the stage. She's obviously nervous and glances to Elliot who nods back at her, as if to say 'You can do it."

Alyssa takes a deep breath before beginning.

"Esteemed staff and fellow students, welcome." Her tone changes from formal to more conversational as she addresses the other student in her year. "Well guys, it's been one heck of year, hasn't it?"

The students chuckle.

"We'd all convinced that this day would never arrive, while we were bogged down in college applications, studying for finals and – perhaps most importantly – trying to make our Senior Year the most memorable it could possibly be. Our yearbook is filled with tales of classroom bloopers and moments of victory and memories of our year trip to Disneyland in Anaheim four weeks ago. That's right folks, we're mature seniors about to go off to college and we elected to go to Disneyland. I think Anaheim is probably my favourite memory of this year, the added poignancy arising from the fact I very nearly didn't go on the trip."

Yeah, and she only went because Elliot threatened to kick her ass if she didn't go on the trip. _Alyssa, you've been looking forward to this trip for weeks._ _You are not missing this trip because of everything that's happened here. I won't let you. Go, have fun for the weekend. No buts. You're going._

"But I'm so glad that I did, because I don't think I've laughed as much as I did there. To all our year, I would like to take this opportunity to publicly thank you all for _not_ shaving off my eyebrows, even though I was the only person on the bus who slept a wink. I'm told that I crashed out the moment I sat in my seat until we arrived in Anaheim despite the ridiculously high volumes of music and singing that were taking place. They really were loud. Trust me, I've heard the recordings.

"Unlike most of us graduating today, I arrived here at St Catherine's High School at the start of Senior Year after I moved here from Connecticut. I'll be honest, I was scared about joining the year so late. I was scared that I wouldn't be accepted or made to feel like one of the group. I couldn't have been more wrong and within a few weeks I felt like I'd never gone to school anywhere else. As we graduate from St Catherine's today to go our separate ways, I know that the people I've met and the memories I've made here will stay with me for life.

"Life is a funny thing. Every day is filled with a new adventure waiting to be undertaken and a new lesson to be learned. Some of these lessons are more subtle than others and sometimes it'll take us a while to figure out the moral we're supposed to take. I feel completely honoured and privileged to have so many people to learn these lessons from – Dad, Carla, Turk and JD, to name just a few. Thank you so much to you all. But I couldn't give this speech without paying tribute to the person from whom I've learned so many of my lessons from - the woman with whom I share a last name and the frightening ability to talk at several hundred times the rate of normal human beings. My aunt, Elliot Reid."

I glance at Elliot, who is staring straight ahead of her, shocked expression on her face. I take a hold of one of her hands.

"Told you might need those tissues," Turk whispers.

"I can't even begin to tell you about everything Aunt Elliot has done for me. She's been my teacher and role model and most importantly, my best friend. I can talk to her about anything from 'What am I doing in life?' to 'What's the escape plan for when the zombies attack?' So far all we've come up with is run _really _quickly and give JD to them as a distraction." Alyssa glances at me. "Sorry, dude."

I shrug but laugh at the same time.

"Joking aside, there are so many lessons Aunt Elliot has taught me without even knowing it and I wonder if she knows just how much I look up to her. Aunt Elliot, I don't know how I'll ever be able to thank you enough for everything you've done for me and all the lessons you've taught me and I want you to know that I could not have asked for a better person to learn them from. Thank you."

Alyssa retakes her seat as the audience applaud.

At this point, the three of us are trying to comfort Elliot, who is crying freely. It's not sad crying, obviously.

"You okay?" I ask her.

After a few seconds and once she's pulled herself together, Elliot smiles back at me. "Yeah. I'm great."

_JD_

The graduation ceremony is coming to a close now. The students are crossing the stage in alphabetical order. They're at letter P now, so it shouldn't be long now before Alyssa receives her diploma.

Turk took the camera closer to the stage to get some pictures.

And now it's the moment we've been waiting for.

"Alyssa Madeleine Reid," the principal's booming voice says.

Alyssa climbs up the steps to the stage and walks across the stage towards the principal, who hands Alyssa her diploma. After this, Alyssa continues her walk across the stage. As she does, she looks over to us, a proud grin on her face.

* * *

_Alyssa_

Holy crap, I just graduated high school. I actually just graduated high school. I really can't quite believe it. That's it. It's done. It's over. It's actually _over._

I thought I'd feel sad when I walked across the stage. I thought maybe I'd be filled with fear or a sense of impending dooooooom. But I just felt excited that the moment I'd been waiting on for years, really, had finally arrived.

I've graduated high school.

The moments following the end of the ceremony are filled with happy chaos, with lots of hugging of friends and classmates and even their parents. I've even been hugging people I've never even met before. Very strange, but what the hell. It's Graduation.

"Lyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyys!"

I spin around to face the person who shouted on me. "Kaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaate," I reply, mocking her ever so slightly.

Kate bounces towards me before hugging me. "We graduateeeeeeeeeeed!"

"I know! Can you believe it?"

"Noooooooooooooooo!" She shouts. "That's why I'm elongating all my wooooooooooooooooords!"

I'm laughing at her craziness.

"I have to find my folks now," she says, with a fraction more sanity. "You're going to the party tonight, right?"

"Of course!"

"Okay. I'll see you theeeeeeeeeeeeeeere!" Kate hurries off to find her family.

I return to walking around the pandemonium, trying to make my way to familiar faces. Ah, found one.

"Michael."

He turns around to face me in response, before hugging me and kissing my cheek.

"Congratulations," he says.

"Congratulations yourself," I respond. "I know we can't really speak right now, so brace yourself. I'm about to the rip the band-aid off. You prepared?"

Michael nods. "Hit me."

"I don't want to break up when we go to college," I say. "And I know long-distance rarely works and it sucks and there are a million more reasons not to try it. So, what I'm saying is, I'm up for giving this long distance thing a shot if you are. But even if all goes wrong, I'd rather crash and burn than to never know at all." And now I just need to wait for the response. You know, wait to see if I've embarrassed myself by going off on completely the wrong track.

"Me too."

"So we're trying this long distance thing?" I ask. Seriously, I like having clarification before I start to believe... well, anything.

"I think so," Michael smiles at me.

I start smiling too. "Okay. I have to go and find my dad. We can talk later?"

"Definitely."

"Okay."

With that, I scurry off intent on finding my dad. It doesn't take me long though, as my dad and the nurse from the hospice are the only ones still sitting in the seats.

"Hey," I say to my dad.

He doesn't say anything in reply. Instead he just chooses to stand up and hug me.

"Thank you for being here today," I say, feeling myself start to cry again.

* * *

_JD_

Today has been an emotional rollercoaster (I don't care if Dr Cox hates the phrase, I will use it until the day I die!). There have been tears and smiles and laughs, and believe it or not, it's been an escape. It's been so nice, just for the hour, to be focusing on a celebration rather than the constant weight of fear and worry that we've become so accustomed to since Riley was born.

Turk is showing us the photos he took when a voice comes from behind the group. "So... um, what did you guys think?"

We turn around to see Alyssa standing there fidgeting nervously.

"Seriously, was it okay?"

"You made us cry," Carla says. "Enough said."

"We're really proud of you, Lys." I say, as Elliot and her niece hug.

Turk – still with the camera – says, "How about a photo of all three of you for the album?"

As Turk waits with the camera aimed, we line up, Alyssa standing between Elliot and I.

"Okay guys," Turk says. "Say cheese." And with that, Turk takes the photograph.

* * *

_AN: Thanks for reading. Next chapter will be up in a week or sooner (probably sooner, for reasons I will explain next update). No, really, it will be. I already have it written._


	33. My Last Chapter

**AN: Well, dear reader, this is the last chapter. Yes, the very last chapter of this fic. And, I'm going to be honest with you, I think it sucks. I hate it. The reality is I've really lost interest in this story. I don't want to write it anymore. It's all my own fault. If this story has taught me anything, it's the importance of having a good plan in place and not leaving a half written chapter for months - literally. I have thought many times about abandoning this fic, particularly during this last chapter when my motivation was zero, and had I encountered another computer malfunction and lost everything on it, I probably wouldn't have started writing it again. Actually, having to write it all again would probably make me cry. But I didn't want to abandon it so close to the end. I wanted to at least give _some_ kind of ending, even if it was rubbish.**

That being said, up until the last chapter, I did have a lot of fun writing this fic. I've been writing it for a couple of years, mostly due to my bad planning and discipline. Despite the immense relief I'm going to feel once I finally change the status of this story to 'Complete', I am a little bit sad to see the end of MSEL. It's seen me through some rough times. It - strangely enough - feels like the end of high school: I'm a little sad because it's the end, but thank god it's over. Or that Kirsty MacColl song: _"I don't feel sad about letting you go, I just feel sad about letting you know."_ **That was weird...**

**So, in short, sorry for this last chapter and thank you if you've ever read this story and enjoyed it. Or even read the story and didn't enjoy it, whatever. But thanks for reading, and, for the most part, it's been a blast.**

Cheers. x

* * *

_JD_

I glance at the clock. 2.39. It's 2.39am and I'm only just going to bed. Today (yesterday, technically) I haven't stopped. Between work this morning and then building what seemed like every piece of nursery furniture known to man, I'm exhausted. It started out with four of us trying to build the furniture: myself, Turk, Dr Cox and Alyssa. Carla came round to help after her shift, and Elliot joined in with the building for a while after dinner before going back to the hospital. At one point there were six of us building up the furniture and it still took until after 2am. The lesson we've all learned from many mishaps that included wrong numbers of screws, wrong sizes of screws, slanted dresser tops (you get the idea): Never trust IKEA instructions. Just don't do it. It will not end well, and you'll only complete all construction at 2am. But it's all been worth it, because Riley's coming home from hospital today. After all this time, our baby's finally coming home.

You're probably wondering why we left it to the last minute to build the nursery. It felt too much like tempting fate to build a nursery before being as certain we possibly could be that Riley would be get to come home. Hence only completing the nursery at two in the morning.

I'm going to sleep now. It's going to be a big day.

The next thing I'm aware of is being shaken. At the periphery of consciousness, I can hear Elliot chattering away in the distance. Except she can't be a distance away, she's right next to me.

"What?" I mumble, not quite fully lucid.

"Diapers."

I glance at the clock again. It's just past 4. "What?"

"We forgot to get diapers. We don't have any freaking diapers for Riley. We can't bring her home and not have any diapers for her."

I could have sworn we got them yesterday, but I'm not arguing with Elliot. "It's okay, we'll go to Walmart before I go to work." Crap, I forgot that I'm working this morning to tie up loose ends before taking a few weeks off with Riley.

"What time do you start?"

"Eight."

"We better get up now then."

"What?"

"Say an hour to get ready, forty minutes to get to the store. That takes us to nearly six. Then an hour to go around the store to get the diapers and pick up anything else that we think of and then half an hour to drive to the hospital. 7.30. And then that gives half an hour for coffee and something to eat before your shift starts."

I rub the sleep from my eyes. "That's a lot of information to process on an hour's sleep."

"Come on, we gotta get up."

"I'll be there in a second." I say that, but a second later when I'm drifting back into unconsciousness.

"JD!"

"I'm up."

I sit up in the bed, trying to acquire enough awareness to prevent me walking into doors or wall. Haven't learned the layout of the new house to sleepwalk around it safely yet. I hear Elliot's footsteps as she makes her way out of the room, and then a few seconds later, I hear knocking on a door down the hall.

"Alyssa, time to get up. Lys? Wake up."

It takes another few minutes of knocking on the door for there to be any kind of response, by which point I think Alyssa has given up trying to ignore the noise. Also, by this time I'm up and standing in the hall opposite my door, watching. This should be interesting.

Alyssa's bedroom door swings open, and the sleep-deprived teenager steps forward. There's murder in her eyes. "What... _the hell_?"

"We're going to Walmart."

Alyssa blinks incredulously. "Again, I feel forced to ask this question: What the hell?"

"We're going to Walmart," Elliot repeats.

"It's four o'clock in the freaking morning!"

"A fact that pisses us both off," I chip in, only to receive a glare from Elliot.

"And we'll be going straight to the hospital after so take your things."

"Huh?" I don't start until 8."

"Don't ask her to tell you the math," I say. "Just trust her on that one."

"Can you be ready in an hour?" Elliot asks her niece.

"Do I have much choice?"

"Good girl. Okay, I'm going to make some coffee."

Once Elliot is out of earshot, I say this: "It's official. She's gone insane."

Alyssa nods. "I'm blaming you," she says before walking back into her room and closing the door.

* * *

_Alyssa_

It's 7.45 and I've already been awake for nearly four hours. That, coupled with the 90 minutes of sleep I actually achieved before then, is why I'm lying along the comfy chairs in the lecture theatre before the official start of volunteering. Today there are new volunteers starting, and we've been asked to essentially induct them to Sacred Heart Hospital and all its weird and wonderful ways. I'm actually going to miss volunteering here when I go to college. Maybe I'll come back here after medical school. Maybe. Never know what's going to happen. I mean, I could love it out in Massachusetts and decide I never want to leave. Or maybe I'll go down to Florida. Or Alaska. No, too cold. Oh, or maybe I'll end up in Hawaii...

... Sorry, I tend to ramble when I'm tired. I'll stop it.

Anyway, all the new volunteers are supposed to arrive about 8 and we're supposed to give a talk to them about the rules and what we do and what's going to happen today. And then we're each working with 1 or 2 of the new volunteers to show them around the hospital and actually show them what to do. I feel bad whichever unfortunate new volunteers get landed with me. I am not in a good mood today. I should apologise to them in advance.

The door to the conference room opens and I can hear the mingled chat of some of the other old (right word?) volunteers walking in, but I don't look up to see whose there. Footsteps head over to where I'm lying. I still don't open my eyes.

I instantly recognise the next voice as Kate's. "Wow, you look rough."

Unable to formulate an intelligent verbal response, I flip Kate the one-fingered salute.

"Somebody's bitter and unpleasant this morning."

"Sorry. I'll be nicer after coffee."

"Speaking of which..."

And as if Kate had been acting as a cue, Michael walks in, carrying a Coffee Bucks tray. As people take their drinks from the tray, he says: "Who ordered the double espresso?"  
I raise my right hand.

"And the other double espresso?"

I raise my left hand. "Over here."

"Two double espressos? Seriously?"

"Yep. If I'm going to remain awake today, I'll have to be downing the coffees Lorelai Gilmore style."

"Or you could try to convince Carla to rig you up to an IV filled with coffee." Kate suggests.

"You think she'd do that?"

Michael shakes his head.

Me: "Damn." I sit up in my seat. "Well, people, in about 10 seconds I am going to be a hell of a lot more pleasant." And in quick succession, I down the two double espressos.

Then I hear an unknown voice behind me. "That was freaky."

"You'll get used to Alyssa," Kate says. "You must be one of the new volunteers."

The girl nods, and she's followed by a few new people.

"Come, take a seat," Kate tells them. "We'll get started as soon as the others arrive."

About ten minutes later (which has been enough time for all that caffeine to kick in – I'm in a great mood now!), all the new volunteers are here and the oldies are standing on the stage-y type thing.

We agreed on different things we were going to tell the new guys. Somehow I was given Zee Rulez. Honestly, that's how it's written on my piece of paper. I was in a weird mood when I was writing my notes for this. I've been through break times and what to do if something goes wrong. And after taking about our not so cheery black scrubs...

"As for footwear," I say, "sneakers, Crocs, that sort of thing is allowed. But definitely nothing open-toed and, um," I hesitate, "no ballerina pumps."

And at that point everyone in the room – and I mean everyone, including myself – looks down at my choice of footwear. My favourite purple ballerina pumps that I always know the location of, even in the middle of the night when I walking around like a zombie getting ready to go to Walmart.

"Yeah, I forgot to pick up my sneakers before I left my house this morning. It's a long story. Oh, which reminds me. General note to everybody: If, by any chance, you come across a blonde woman, about five eight-ish, chattering away in either French, German or a language that believe it or not is English, just walk right by her. Do not make eye contact and definitely do not try to speak to her. I repeat, do not try to speak to her. She is crazy and you need some sort of training to be able to deal with her in her current state. You need to be prepared."

"Lys, you've just scared the living bejeezus out of them."

"I did not."

Michael then addresses the other volunteers. "How many of you think you're going to run into a psycho woman who will kill you with an axe?"

Pretty much every hand bar mine is raised. And yes, that does include all the old volunteers.

"My bad. She won't kill you, I swear," I tell them. "But the woman is fricking insane today."

"Can you blame her?" Kate asks me.

"That's not the point."

The point of conversation quickly moves on to which of us old volunteers are going to show the new guys around the hospital. I'm showing two of the volunteers – Casey and Leah – around today.

They walk up to me nervously. Can't blame them.

"Hey guys," I say to them. "First off, I must warn you that although the psycho woman won't kill you, she is insane and there is a high chance we'll encounter her at some point. It's a long story... Anyway, I'm Alyssa. I'm going to show round the hospital."

* * *

_After her day at school, Alyssa walked through the apartment door to be hit with the smell of curry. At least, it smelled like curry, but in the few months Alyssa had lived here, nobody had ever made curry._

"What's cooking?" She called out, closing the apartment door behind her.

"Chicken curry," replied her aunt Elliot from the kitchen." It'll be ready in a few minutes."

"Okay."

That made slightly more sense. Ever since Elliot had found out a few weeks ago that she was pregnant (and now four months gone), more and more unusual foods had made an appearance, like pizza for breakfast and cereal garnished with tomato ketchup. Elliot didn't reserve the weird foods for herself. Alyssa was still trying to live down the day she went to eat her lunch at school to discover that her aunt had given her a chocolate and onion bhaji sandwich.

The teenager tossed her school bag down on the floor, and threw her school blazer onto one of the coat pegs before making her way to the table, where JD was sitting.

"How was school?" he asked her.

"It was okay," she answered. "I had to go to Mass this morning though. It's a long hour, and it's very irritating when they put Mass during your study period."

"That's typical. Are you as scared about this curry as I am?"

"Definitely," Alyssa answered. "I'm still trying to get the taste of onion bhaji and chocolate out my mouth."

"Dinner's ready," Elliot said cheerily from the kitchen.

"Thank you," the other two responded, as she put plates down on the table.

The curry didn't appear to contain anything out of the ordinary, and dinner went like normal. When the phone rang Elliot got up to answer it.

"Oh my god," Alyssa said painfully, once her aunt was out of earshot. "My mouth is on fire. Actually on fire."

"She must've put a whole jar of chilli and cayenne pepper and Tabasco sauce in that!"

"Holy crap. Is there a fire extinguisher around here?"

"How the hell is she not dying right now?" JD rubbed his eyes. "Okay, that was a bad idea. Ow. Ow. Ow."

The pair were still trying to counteract the ridiculous pain caused by a ridiculously spicy curry when Elliot walked back into the room.

"I'm doing an extra shift this week," she said, before noticing the somewhat odd expressions on the other two's faces. "Are you two okay?"

"Yeah," Alyssa answered meekly, although she was trying her best to hide her pain.

"We're fine."

_Elliot raised an unconvinced eyebrow. "Okay then..."_

* * *

_JD_Turk texted me a few minutes ago, asking me to meet him outside in the parking lot. Intrigued, I began to head there immediately from the second floor. As I walk out the hospital door, I see a chunky blue mat and Turk standing proudly beside it; arms stretched open in a 'ta-da' fashion.

"Is this what I think it is?"

Turk gives an exaggerated nod. "In recognition of Riley getting home from hospital today, this, my friend, is the set up for an ultimate, celebratory Super Eagle."

"You're kidding me."

"Nope!"

Within a few seconds, Turk has lifted me onto his shoulder as is spinning me around. It's so much fun. But during rotation, I can see three people walking towards me. One of them is in black scrubs, and the other two are dressed in normal clothes. They stop walking when they're near us.

"Oh, sweet Jesus," a voice I recognise as belonging to Alyssa says.

"What?" Turk says, as he stops spinning (voluntarily anyway), and puts my feet on the ground.

"You people are doctors," Alyssa snaps back. "No no. You people are _fathers_."

"They're doctors?" One of the people with Alyssa asked incredulously.

"Unfortunately, yes," Alyssa answers. "Casey, Leah, meet Drs Turk and Dorian. You'll be seeing them a lot around the hospital. And more often than not they'll be doing something ridiculous like this."

"You're in a bad mood today," Turk says to her.

Alyssa shrugs. "No sleep and m'caffeine buzz is wearing off."

"Sucks to be you," I say.

"Sucks to be me? Oh really?" Alyssa aggressively asks. "You look like you're about to throw up."

"I am."

"Unbelievable," Alyssa mutters to herself.

"_Anyway. _It's nice to meet you two," Turk says to the new volunteers. "When do you guys officially start?"

"Tomorrow," Leah answers. "We were just in for induction and a tour."

"I've shown them all around the hospital. Although I kind of regret taking you by paeds."

"Why?" I ask.

"We ran in to a scary blonde woman."

"Yes, and Scary Blonde Woman had a message for you, Dr Dorian. I don't want to repeat it, but she used the word 'frick'. A lot. And she also mentioned something about plotting you demise."

"Elliot is really going psycho today, isn't she?" Turk says incredulously.

Alyssa nods. "Little bit."

"I should go up there..."

"And, for your own safety, take food with you," Alyssa says. "Unless you want to risk being mauled to death."

"Thanks for the warning. By the way, are you still blaming me for this morning?" I ask Alyssa.

"Definitely."

"Fair enough."

* * *

_Alyssa_The new volunteers all left the hospital a little while ago, and I'm eventually taking a lunch break. However I'm not eating my lunch. Instead, I'm on the phone to yet another one of my uncles. This time it's my uncle Barry though, so at least I get a good gossip out of it.

Although Uncle Barry called to tell me to wish Elliot, JD and Riley well today, he has some news of his own.

"That's great that you and Harrison moved in together," I say over the phone. "Congratulations. Give me your new address, I'll send you a card and stuff. "

While my uncle Barry gives me the address and more details about their new flat, Turk walks into the cafeteria. He says me – I'm sitting on my own – and sits down at the same table.

I nod 'hello' to him, still talking on the phone.

As Uncle Barry tells me that he has to go because he has to get to work, Turk reaches over and attempts to take some of the fries from my plate. I swat his hand away.

"Dude!" I say, once I'm off the phone. "Get your own fries!"

"Yours taste better," is the sarcastic response, accompanied by an exaggerated grin as Turk takes more fries from my plate. "Why are you writing down an address?"

"I need to send a 'Congrats on the new house' card to my uncle Barry and his boyfriend. They moved in together."

Turk reads the first line of the address, specifically the name. "Barry Reid and Harrison Kelso?" He asks me.

"Yeah. Why are you trying not to laugh?"

"No reason."

Yeah, I'm _so_ not convinced. Anyway. "Are you gonna be there at two to see them all off?"

"Of course," Turk answers. Then he pauses. "It's been a hell of a rollercoaster hasn't it?"

"Yep," I sigh. "It seems like just yesterday we were making those bets on when they'd get together." Ah, nostalgia.

"Those bets were fun," Turk says. "Do you want to make more bets?"

"Sure. What on?"

Turk thinks for a second. "Okay. I bet you twenty bucks I'll be Riley's godfather."

"Get lost!" I tell him. "That bet _sucks_. Everybody knows they'll ask you and Carla to be godparents. In fact, anyone who actually agrees to that bet deserves to have their money taken. Back to the drawing board." And I find myself pointing at in imaginary drawing board. Why? Don't know.

"Fine," a disgruntled Turk responds. He's silent for a few seconds as he thinks. "Okay. How about a bet on when he'll propose to Elliot?"

"Now _that_ bet, I'll take," I say. "You first."

"Six months," Turk answers. "Go."

"Today."

Turk contorts his face with some mix of confusion and wondering if I'm an idiot. "What? No way. Are you _trying_ to lose money?"

"Why would I try to lose money? What kind of idiot do you take me for?"

"Then why would you bet today?"

I shrug. "I've got a feeling." _That tonight's going to be a real good night. _Sorry, my singing is terrible. Especially driving in my car on my own with the radio turned up as I sing along to that song. Oopsy.

Turk's pager bleeps, and he looks down at it. "Sure. Whatever. I'll be looking forward to taking your 20 bucks." He begins to walk away but pauses and turn back around. "You know, I'm pretty sure I heard Dr Kelso saying that his son Harrison had just moved in with his boyfriend. Barry something. OB/GYN. From New York or Connecticut. Somewhere around there."

I'm about to say that's one hell of a coincidence but something else clicks in my I add two and two together and come up with four."You're _kidding me_?"

"Nope," Turk says, his voice affected by stifled laughter.

"My uncle Barry's living with Dr Kelso's son?"

"Yep."

"My Uncle Barry's living with Dr Kelso's son?"

"Yep," Turk repeats.

"My uncle Bar-"

"It doesn't matter how many times you say it," Turk interrupts. "It's still going to be true."

Cue my descent into fits of laughter. Turk's laughing with me.

"Oh my god, I can't breathe," I say through the laughter. At least that's what I _tried_ to say. I have no idea what it actually sounded like.

I'm still laughing my ass off when Turk eventually walks out of the cafeteria.

* * *

_It had been a normal in Sacred Heart before A medical student rushed in to the cafeteria, face etched with impending disaster._always_ play scissors?"_

"Dr Reid's about to kill someone!" He said hurriedly.

"Elaborate," Turk said.

"One of the interns made an admittedly idiotic comment about a mood swing and she's about to kill him. I honestly think she might kill him."

JD looked across to Alyssa, who didn't look up from the magazine she was reading.

"Rock paper scissors," they both said, although Alyssa was much less enthused than her uncle.

"Damn it!" JD cursed as she saw that Alyssa has played scissors to his paper. He got up from his table and followed the med student.

"Every time," Alyssa muttered, shaking her head. "How, in five months have you not learned that I will

_

* * *

_

JD

This is it. In about thirty seconds (once I sign the last set of discharge papers) we get to take Riley home. Once I put the last signature on the piece of paper, Riley's no longer a hospital patient. She has to come back every few months for check-ups, but she no longer has to be here all the time. We can actually take Riley home.

It feels like we've been waiting forever for this moment. The moment when I write the last letter of my signature and it's all over. "Riley is officially discharged from Sacred Heart Hospital."

"Yay," Elliot says, looking down at Riley. She lifts the baby up higher. "You get to go home now, Riley. How about that? You're going home. We're all going home." She puts Riley into the pram, then turns to me "Once we walk out of here, we're on our own. We ready for this?"

"As we're ever going to be."

"Okay."

And we're out of there.

"I want to go down to see everybody before we go," Elliot says.

When we step out of the elevator on the floor where we usually work, Turk, Carla, Alyssa and Dr Cox are all standing waiting on us.

"We wanted to see you all off," Turk says.

"Even you Dr Cox?" I ask.

Dr Cox just grumbles.

"Dr Cox was the one who suggested we meet you at the elevator," Carla tells us, and she's met with a glare from the curly-haired doctor.

"Photo op," Alyssa says, holding up her camera.

The photo is taken.

"I know I'll see you at five when I get home," Alyssa says, "but I just wanted to see you quickly before you go." She hugs the both of us then looks into the pram at Riley. "Riley, few quick rules. Please don't steal my make-up or CDs. Okay? Just kidding. Wait until I get home and I'll show which are the good ones. I really have to go. I have to help Kate tidy up that empty room. "See you when I get home." Alyssa walks away.

"I have to go too," Turk frowns. "I have a consult in a few minutes. See you later guys."

Dr Cox walks away without really saying much, just a nod of the head.

"Hey, some of the other nurses got you some cards and things," Carla says and we follow her along the corridor, into the main area of the ward.

Standing here in the ward right now – Elliot with one hand on Riley's pram as she talks to one of the nurses – I can't quite believe this moment is real. If some fortune teller or psychic or wizard (how cool would that've been?) had told me everything that was going to happen in my life and between Elliot and me, I'd would have laughed in their face. Although, I think I'd be too stunned to do anything if a wizard was talking to me. I may have actually had a heart attack and had to be admitted to the hospital as a patient on my first day.

It's been a hell of a journey for Elliot and me. From our first year as interns when we tried and train-wrecked a relationship and all those 'sex buddy' years, and those months after Turk and Carla's wedding when we could barely look each other in the eye. In all honesty, at that time I wasn't sure if we'd ever get to being friends again. And here we are now, about to take our daughter home.

"We'll stop by and visit you all tomorrow," Carla says, once the conversation with one of the other nurses ends. "Have a safe ride home, and well, good luck."

Thanks, I think.

You know what, if I've learned anything from the rollercoaster that's been the last few months, it's that life's too short to mess about.

And all the best things that have happened in the last year have happened when we didn't plan them.

Screw it.

"Elliot?"

_

* * *

_

Thursday nights only meant one thing for

_JD and Elliot. Thursday nights were _Grey's Anatomy

_ nights. And tonight's episode was a cracker. Some nutter was running around the hospital with a gun shooting people. It was jaw-drop TV. Even right now during a commercial break, they were staring in silence at the TV set._

During commercial breaks like this, JD had a habit of zoning out. But a sudden wail from Elliot brought him back to attention.

"That poor cow," she sniffed.

JD looked at her with confusion. "What cow?"

"The cow in the commercial. She just wants to be a horse," she explained through tears. "But she's never going to be a horse. Because she's a cow."

In Elliot's last sentence, JD almost didn't understand what she had said through her crying.

"Elliot," he said calmly. "It's just a commercial. There isn't a cow somewhere who always dreamt of being a horse."

"You don't know that! Can you imagine being one species and wanting to be something else? Oh my god, what if the baby decides they want to be a cat but they can't be a cat because they're human and they're depressed for all their lives. Oh my god."

JD put his arm around Elliot and hugged her. "It's okay," he said soothingly. "It'll be okay."

* * *

_Alyssa_

"And they're out of here," I say to Kate as I walk into the room.

"They've left the hospital?" Kate asks, as she hands me a pair of gloves for cleaning this room.

"Not quite. They're still talking to Carla in the ward. But they're leaving." Staring at the bed, I find myself asking Kate a ridiculous question. "Do you think anybody would notice if I slept in that bed for a few hours?"

"I think the nurses would when they went to admit the next patient."

"Ah, see, the plan is I tell them that it's going to take a few hours to clean the room, so they don't go to admit a patient because they think people are still cleaning in here. Nobody's any the wiser."

Kate shakes her head at me. "Not gonna work."

"Damn. What did you think of the new volunteers?"

"I thought they were all really nice," Kate says. "Although I think they were all weirded out by how, well, weird this place is. 'Cause, well, _everything_ goes down here at Sacred Heart Hospital"

"Very true. But weren't we all weirded out when we first started here?" I ask her. "I know I was."

"Me too," Kate answers. "I think we've all, somehow, got used to the craziness . I told the newbies that and they didn't believe me, so I told them if they didn't, there's always a supply closet you can hide in."

"Those supply closets are excellent hiding places. When I hid in one it took an hour and a half for anyone to find me." The reminiscing makes me sigh. "I think I can say with some authority that this last year has been and will continue to be one of the craziest years in my life. But, you know what, despite all the crap that's happened at various time, it's been a freaking good one too."

Kate laughs before she begins to step out of the room, carrying a bin bag. But she stops. "Uh, Lys?" She says tentatively. "You know how I said that everything goes down at Sacred Heart Hospital?"

"Yeah."

"Well... it's finally happening."

"Huh?" I say, walking towards the door. Then I see what she means. "Holy crap, it happening," I whisper, not wanting to disturb the scene in front that everyone is watching. And when I say everyone, I mean _everyone. _That's including the patients. Seriously, there are patients who I've only even seen asleep watching what's going on up ahead. They're like zombies that only rise from the dead to feast on big moments. That's actually quite disturbing.

So what _is_ happening, I hear you ask. Well...

JD is down on one knee which essentially indicates only one thing. And if you don't know what it is, I'm not telling you. Wait and see.

"Elliot," JD says, "I... I've been trying to think of the perfect things to say to you right now. Well, not _right_ now because I didn't exactly plan to do this here in the hospital but it just seemed right. Anyway, there is no perfect way of saying this. Everything and anything I think to say just seems insignificant and, well, crap."

"Oh dear god," I hear Kate mumble, as she essentially face/palms herself. She's not the only one.

"I mean, after everything we've been through... there aren't words that exist for what I want to say. I guess I could invent words..."

There's another collective groan of incredulity as JD tilts his head to the side.

Seriously, dude? This is _so_ not the time to slip into one of your idiotic daydreams! What a twat.

I roll up the few paper towels in my hand in to a ball and throw it at JD. It hits JD right on the head (not gonna lie, I'm proud of that!), snapping him back to reality.

"Thank you," he begrudgingly says, glaring sideways at me.

"No problem," I answer, nodding.

He turns his attention back to Aunt Elliot. "Anyway, what I'm trying to say is... Elliot Reid... will you marry me?"

"Took you long enough to ask," Aunt Elliot answers, wry smile on her face.

"Wait. Is that a yes?"

"What do you think?"

JD slides the ring onto Elliot's finger, before standing up and kissing her. People start clapping – even Dr Cox and that's saying something.

Kate and I are both squeezing like Twilight fans that've just seen Edward Cullen.

"You know what else is awesome about this? Turk owes me twenty bucks," I say to Kate quietly. Well, quietly in relation to the rest of the noise.

"How come?"

"I bet him that JD would propose to Elliot today."

"Huh," Kate says, with a disapproving look on her face that lets me know what the next question is even before she asks it. "And did you tell Turk you already knew that was going to happen?"

I roll my eyes. "No," I answer reluctantly.

Kate raises an eyebrow. "You get that that's technically fraud, right?"

"I'll give you ten bucks."

"Deal."

As if on cue, Turk walks over to us and hands me two ten dollar bills. I pass one of them to Kate.

Turk looks at us questioningly.

"Long story," I tell him.

"Oh, okay," Turk says obliviously. "I know I lost the last bet, but I got a new one. I bet you twenty bucks that Carla will be Elliot's maid of honour."

"Dude, they _just_ thirty seconds ago got engaged."

"I know. Do you want to take the bet or what?"

I shrug. "Sure. You're on."

"Great." Turk walks away, muttering something about how he is totally going to win this bet.

"Are you kidding with that?" Kate asks me, looking in Turk's direction. "Course Carla'll be her maid of honour."

I nod slightly. "I'm kinda hoping by that time he'll have forgotten we ever made a bet."

* * *

_JD really should've believed Dr Cox when he said that assembling mobiles was frustrating. He'd spent the last three hours trying to put this one together and, from the looks of it, he was barely half of the way there._

Buying an elaborate mobile had seemed like a good idea at the time. That was before JD tried to put it together. It didn't matter what he did, he still did it wrong.

After taking another break to calm himself down(or else he was going to turn into The Incredible Hulk), JD returned the mobile project. First task was trying to attach one of the arms of the mobile to the base.

Whoever had designed this mobile hadn't done a very good job, as the arm was chunkier than its spot on the base. JD tried with all his might to get that arm to slide into the slot.

It snapped instead.

The window of the nursery was open and, well, the mobile flew straight out of it. That was quickly followed by a shriek.

JD walked over to the window and looked out it. He saw the mobile shattered on the ground and to the side of it was Alyssa – trash bag in hand – glaring at him from down below.

"Dude," she snarled. "Stop throwing things out the freaking window. I don't want a freaking concussion!"

JD apologised and moved away from the window and he could hear Alyssa ranting about the need for hard hats to take the trash out as she walked back into the house.

JD thought it would be a better idea if next time he bought an already assembled mobile for Riley's crib.

_

* * *

_

JD

Now that we're at home, Elliot and I are sitting in Riley's nursery. Riley is in the crib, looking up at the (second) mobile that's spinning above her head and playing a quiet tune. Elliot and I are looking down at our daughter.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" I say to Elliot. "Yes, you are." That was to Riley.

"You're going to be wrapped around her little finger," Elliot whispers, as Riley's eyes close heavily then re-open like she's trying to keep herself awake.

"I think I already am."

Elliot chuckles and then looks at me. "Love you."

"Love you too."


End file.
